Grievance
by Rainless Thunder
Summary: The idea that they're just dropping everything and leaving it behind for who knows how long has apprehension rising in his belly. Shinichi and Shiho leave Japan in search of relief from the paranoia that comes with residing in the country that housed the Black Organization. Part 1: Hesitance
1. Chapter 1

Hope you enjoy it!

...

Shiho jiggles the handle behind her, makes sure it's locked before leaving it behind. She's not entirely sure either of them will ever come back to this apartment. As far as Shiho's concerned, there's a deep fear and a rumbling anxiety trapped in those walls, ready to eat them alive should they step foot back inside. In fact, the thought of abandoning it, of leaving those cramped rooms and dim lights for the space of the hallway outside is liberating. Mid-morning sun spills from the windows of the hall, softens Shinichi's hair and with it comes a warmth she never felt in that apartment.

Even now Shiho isn't completely convinced leaving is the best idea. However, she sees little else they could do on such short notice. It's not like she has a whole lot to be homesick about.

Her home is in that stuffy lab with those stacks of files and that computer that can barely process a command and Agasa. Her home is right behind her, messing with a loose thread on the strap of the bag slung across his shoulder.

Perhaps they'll both come back different people. People that can sleep through the night and not wake up exhausted. Or maybe they'll be worst off. Shiho's terrified of a worst case scenario in which they don't get any better. Where they sleep with the lights on and guns clutched in their hands. Where blood and smoke are the only smells they recognize anymore and it's house after house, apartment after apartment when the paranoia becomes too much.

Her chest cavity feels like it's caving in at the thought, only the smallest of breezes make it through the small openings in the rubble.

Shinichi wouldn't let that happen to them. Would he?

Shiho can see the darkness beneath his eyes, both restless and exhausted. Tired but awake. She sees herself in the doors of the elevator as it slides shut.

Slim. Too slim. Maybe Shinichi could feel the bumps of her ribs beneath her skin. Her hair is a dirty blonde blur in the steel cut; it nearly reaches her collar bones. Shiho wonders what it would be like if she grew it out for a change, she pushes the advantage of changing their appearance to the back of her mind.

Shinichi hovers beside her, shifting from foot to foot in a manner that makes her anxious. She's about to nudge him in the side to stop him when he curls his hands around hers. Warmth floods through her; she's grounded and set free all at once.

She can't stop the small smile that graces her lips at the feeling. It's then and only then that she feels that perhaps they could survive this.

The air is uncomfortably warm as they make their way to Agasa's; pace brisk and quiet. The only exception is when Shiho explains to Shinichi they must pick up the necessary documents. Shinichi thought as such before they go quiet again.

This walk doesn't feel liberating; there are shaky mirages on the hot pavement, cats lying in haven shade beneath awnings and beneath bushes, an unusually hot day in the middle of spring.

Sweat beads on their foreheads instead of the raindrops. There aren't any visible bruises on them anymore. Shinichi's lip has mended, the scar small and pink. It should fade eventually. The walk boxes them in, despite walking, it feels like they're going nowhere.

Shinichi's wearing a loose grey shirt, it billows with the slightest breeze, the fabric is so thin. There's sweat in the hollow of his collar bones, heat pelting both their backs. Shiho watches his eyes as they flick across faces and store fronts, an echo of their earlier paranoia. He may just be trying to figure anything and everything out, he's been out of it so long. Shinichi's probably acknowledging the brain atrophy by the way his brows furrow and his hand tightens around the strap of the backpack.

"It'll all come back to you," Shiho places a hand on his forearm, "I promise," His shoulders slump at that.

He no longer has to vocalize his insecurities now that Shiho can read him so accurately. Shinichi finds comfort in that. The week alone together has only made her almost dangerously adept.

They take a longer route that doesn't hit too many main streets. Neither of them acknowledges the fear that still creeps in the back of their minds. As a result, they mostly encounter wandering pets and small children playing with hoses that splatter water across cracked narrow roads.

He breathes easier, knowing this state will only be temporary. He had glanced at a passing woman and was only able to determine her occupation after a few seconds of intense struggle. Other than that, he hovers somewhere between the reality that is their lives and some dream land he hopes to find at the end of a plane ride.

Shinichi quickly realizes that he'll only be finding a temporary relief, in a minute, in a month, there will always be something waiting there to swarm him the moment he finds comfort. The idea that they're just dropping everything and leaving it behind for who knows how long has apprehension rising in his belly.

No matter how hard he wants to deny it, Ran is still a big part of the equation. She plays a bigger factor than he'd care to admit in all of this. However, Shinichi finds a greater urgency in sewing up their seams with a crooked needle than he does for her right now. Their unstable mentalities take priority over the potential of a relationship he doesn't really see as realistic anymore. That alone makes him feel like an asshole, she waited all this time and a part of him knows she'll keep waiting if he doesn't do anything about it; he feels selfish for it. He hates how it horrible it sounds. He hates how it could be misconstrued as running away.

Perhaps she'll make the choice on her own; she's capable of making the right decision for herself, that Shinichi's sure of. But things have a habit of occurring in the most difficult fashion. He's accepted that things like feelings can be so fleeting and unfair, ever since he held Shiho's face in his hands.

He's managed to work himself back into a taut anxiety by the time they reach Agasa's back door. Shiho's already pressing gently at the bell. There's something unidentifiable dropping in his belly as he waits. Will Agasa be glad to see him? Shinichi tries to shake away the doubt. Agasa has always supported both him and Shiho, why would this be any different? He feels like a teenager showing up to his parent's house after defying their orders, he feels shameful, like a dog with its tail between his legs. Part of him wants to turn tail and run.

He notices Shiho's about to reach out for him but when the door opens she stops abruptly. Agasa's brows are drawn together in concern, eyes soft, he ushers them inside without saying anything.

Once inside, Agasa takes the time to give Shiho a tight hug that she returns in kind, presses her cheek into his chest, familiar and tender and warm. Shinichi's frozen in front of the closed door, their bags at his feet, eyes scanning the place like he's never been there before.

Agasa's cry of "My boy!" is jarring after only hearing Shiho's softer tones for a solid week. He clasps Shinichi's shoulder, his smile is warm and Shinichi can't help the smile he gives in return as the anxiety falls away.

A pregnant silence occurs as Shiho settles on the couch and Agasa goes to make them both a cup of coffee. Shinichi sits at the counter and watches Agasa light the stove and bring down a canister of instant coffee, the same in that apartment. He observes Agasa like he would a bystander. Half of his mind is on Agasa, running facts about him through his mind while the other half wanders back into the cramped cave of uncertainty.

Fifteen minutes later, Shiho's sitting straight up on the cushion, steaming cup of coffee in her hands, clearly feigning an ease she does not feel. She's curling in on herself, the façade cracking like a thin pane of ice. Shinichi notices he's doing the same, legs pressed together, making himself as small as possible, like a rodent cornered in a cage.

Agasa appraises them both from the archway of the kitchen. He scratches his head before making his way to the couch not before gesturing for Shinichi to follow him into the living room.

Shinichi settles on his other side; with Agasa between them, his bulk takes up the whole middle cushion.

Shinichi watches Agasa take a sip of his own coffee; he lets out a sigh after he pulls the cup away.

"You've done what was necessary—the absolute best you can," his tone is warm and without pity, "but from what I've seen, there's still a long way to go." Agasa gathers them both in each arm. "If nothing else, I'm proud of what you've accomplished."

Shinichi shivers, he doubts Agasa would be proud if he heard about what they actually had to do. But on the other hand, he also doubts that he'll possibly ever tell Agasa. Some things aren't meant to be shared.

"What I also know is that there's no amount of praise that's going change your decision—which I do support. If it must be done." He says quietly, uncharacteristic of his usually boisterous tone.

Shinichi doesn't realize Shiho's crying until he feels Agasa shifting to rub her back. To him, Agasa's a close friend, but to Shiho, he's that of a father figure. Agasa took her in when she had nowhere else to go; when he had every right to turn her away for her connections with the Black Organization.

They sit in a staggered silence; a strange balance of eggshells and familiarity. Shinichi decides that perhaps when they're ready, they may tell him everything.

To both their relief, Agasa tells them that there's been little to no suspicious activity over the week from his house to Shinichi's. Shinichi knows Agasa understands the deep paranoia that they have and that caution won't hurt, other reasons not withstanding. Shiho's letting out little chuckles though the tears are still rolling down her cheeks. Clearly alleviated that perhaps the threat is little to none.

Another thirty minutes pass in which Shiho calms down enough to loosen up a little, enough to nap for a short while on the couch. It's a dreamless sleep.

Shinichi takes the two manila folders from Agasa and in return gives him the sack of antidote. Agasa stares at the packets in the bag, he's looking down at the last few years of Shinichi's life like a soggy piece of paper forgotten on the sidewalk.

"If there's anyone else I trust to deconstruct this, it's you professor," Shinichi says, he peeks in both folders, makes sure insurance papers and whatnot are within. Apparently appeased, Shinichi stashes them beneath an armpit.

"I'll do what I can," Agasa says. He promises to take note of all the components and perhaps construct a stronger formula if anything happens. Shinichi asks him to take a sample and then hide the rest at the request of Shiho.

Shinichi's reaching for their duffels to stash away the documents when Agasa stops him.

"Shinichi, hold on." Shinichi already feels the dread welling in him. He's once again the small child awaiting the scolding.

"What is it professor?" Shinichi turns back to face him; he tries to hide his pained expression.

"I'll preface this with the fact that this is out of my area of expertise. Shinichi, but please spare the poor girl,"

Shinichi's momentarily taken aback because he believes that Agasa's referring to Shiho. It all clicks before he can get properly defensive.

"Ran? How did you—"

"Shinichi I'm an old enough man to know how another acts in the face of someone they care deeply about." Shinichi goes red in the face.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of. I simply suggest you clear past debts before you continue." Agasa looks thoughtful, not incriminating. How can he be so understanding? Agasa's known them both since they were kids and here he is still supporting Shinichi in what he chooses. Shinichi glances at Shiho and then back at Agasa.

"I plan to professor. I simply don't have everything figured out." He says quietly, it's like pulling a tooth. Shinichi desperately wants things to just fall together, all at once if they have to. Currently the air is practically crackling with awkwardness Shinichi feels. He's praying Shiho doesn't wake up to hear any part of this. It does not matter that together they had already discussed it. It's like talking about his love life to a parent. Shinichi hopes it is not that apparent to his own mother.

"In due time," Agasa pats his shoulder, "no rush." He says.

Before they know it, they've been there for about an hour. Shinichi can see the way Shiho, who's now awake, has begun to shift her knee up and down; she's getting restless. Her mug of coffee now cold and forgotten on the coffee table.

Agasa offers to drive them to the airport. Shinichi's confident he has enough savings to support them both if it comes to it. The ride is almost stifling, the only part of him that feels liberated is where he's got his hand over Shiho's and the burner phone in his pocket. The road Agasa's going takes them past the detective agency and Shinichi has a spontaneous and impulsive idea to call Ran before they leave.

The seal of the car enables Shiho to hear everything, she doesn't hide that she can hear him, in fact, Shiho clutches his hand and stares him straight in the face. Gives him her support. Even she doesn't know what exactly he's going to do, Shinichi doesn't either.

It rings twice before someone answers.

" _Hello?_ "

"Ran, is that you?" Relief floods through him.

" _Shinichi? This is what the third time this week?_ " she sounds amused.

"Yeah I guess it's infectious," Shinichi chuckles, "I like hearing from you," Shinichi holds the phone tighter. "I've missed you."

" _You've said that every time this week._ " Ran laughs, _"But yeah,_ _I've missed you too_."

"How are things?" Shinichi's been at a loss for what to talk about since he called her earlier in the week. "You been back to Beika at all?"

" _Still the same from last time. But, it could be better…wait, Shinichi—I'm in Beika for the weekend—there's a tournament nearby—Shinichi, are you here?_ " Her voice rises in panic, it goes softer. " _Please answer_."

Shinichi exhales and gives in against his better judgment, "Ran, I—yes, I am. But—"

" _It's been so long_ —"

"—it's more complicated than that," Shinichi cuts in, "I'm sorry but I can't."

" _You're busy?_ " There's a little anger there. _"Oh Shinichi_ ," She doesn't hide the disappointment.

"Believe me when I say this, I want to see you." He says too quickly, all of a sudden he feels he's like he's lying to her. And maybe he is. And he feels almost nothing in doing so. Maybe he's numb.

" _Then what's stopping you?_ " Her sharp reply cuts through his thoughts. " _I haven't seen you since-who knows when, you couldn't even show up at my moving away party-Shinichi are you okay?_ "

Shinichi's halfway caught between breaking everything to her now and putting it off once again. He cowers.

"I need to talk to you soon. There's some things I need to tell you. But everything—everything's so jumbled," Shinichi lets go of Shiho's hand so he can rest his face in his palm.

" _Shinichi?_ " Ran's anger quickly changes to concern, " _Are you okay?_ " she asks again. What is okay? The preservation of his high school self before this all happened? His body? His mind? Is that the only way she'll accept him? If he's still the same as he was before the trauma?

As his line of thought practically dives right in from of him, Shinichi quickly realizes that neither of them are ready for the conversation concerning his person. Or their relationship. It's already crumbling before his eyes, exactly what he was trying to avoid. If he can salvage it, Shinichi decides right then that he needs more time.

Shiho rests her head on his shoulder. Slips her hand back through Shinichi's and his breathing slows down.

"Things aren't okay," Shinichi says quietly, closing his eyes. He's probably saying to both of them.

" _Shinichi, I'm worried._ " Ran says, " _Maybe you shouldn't do whatever it is you're doing._ "

"No," Shinichi says immediately. "I need to do this. Things will get better." It's hard to convince himself of even that much.

" _I trust you._ " Is all she says.

"I appreciate it." Shinichi croaks. He lets the abrupt moment where he doesn't return the sentiment pass. "I won't be back for a while again. You should know."

Ran chuckles bitterly. " _And here I thought you were coming back soon._ "

Shinichi does not blame her. He never expected moving on, in any sense to be easy, but he also didn't expect it to tear him apart from the inside out.

"-I have a case-" He chokes out.

" _When is there not a case Shinichi? I understand that this is something you're passionate about, that's what I love about you_..." her voice goes soft, " _It's just, I-I'm just frustrated. Have you ever given thought to-any of your personal relationships?_ "

Shinichi's breath is caught in his throat like barbed wire.

"I'm sorry I've been gone Ran," To Shinichi grits his teeth. "But this is important to me, this one maybe more than any of the others-"

" _More important than our relationship?_ "

Shinichi can hear the way she says it like it pains her.

"I-"

" _You expect to just come back after leaving for months and everything will be the same?_ "

"I don't expect things to be the same Ran, I'm not that idealistic." Shinichi's half ashamed they're having a fight right now. "I'm learning," His voice breaks. Learning more about himself? His wants?

" _Look, Shinichi. I don't want to be hard on you, it's been hard on me too. I haven't seen you in months. I just need to know that you're doing well. With the exception of this week, you hadn't called as much._ "

"I've been busy and what's happening now is unexpected, but it's necessary. And I can't discuss it with you yet." _if ever_.

Shinichi doesn't blame her for getting angry for the reasons she does. Ran doesn't know anything about what he's done and what he now has to deal with.

Ran's disappointed that he won't say any of this in person and if he was there with her, she would punch him in the face. Shinichi wishes she would, maybe the physical pain could mask the ache he feels picking at his insides, vultures ripping a carcass to shreds. Instead Shinichi says he deserves to be for treating her the way he has, but he doesn't want their conversation to end on a bad note. He even laughs frailly. A poor attempt at lightening the conversation that's heavy enough he's surprised the car hasn't slowed down.

"I'm sorry," Shinichi's devolved into nothing but apologies, he's ashamed Agasa has to hear this. That Shiho has to watch the stitches pop as his wound reopens. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry," sorry for neglecting her, sorry for leaving, sorry for falling out of love with her, sorry for killing someone.

He's too frazzled for anything particularly meaningful to change the outcome of this bad note so he mumbles something about calling her back when he gets the chance.

Shinichi spends the rest of the ride with his head in his hands. He keeps recalling Ran trying to keep him on the line, ' _Shinichi keep talking to me. There's something wrong. Tell me. Please_.' He'd disconnected so abruptly, he wouldn't be surprised of Ran was running to his house right then, on a thread of hope that he was actually there.

If he was better equipped perhaps he'd ask Agasa to turn the car around so he could fix it.

What makes him think he can fix that when he himself is in so many pieces?

Instead they continue to the airport without another mention of it. Shiho's eyes are red; this is probably one of the worse possible outcomes for her. Her eyes soften a moment later, lips pursed and trembling slightly like she's fighting the urge to cry right then and there. By then even Shinichi has realized that the phone call was probably a bad idea. He squeezes her hand where their fingers are still intertwined; it's what's keeping him from crumbling into even smaller pieces, from dropping everything to repair something that probably won't look at all shiny and new afterward.

He doesn't apologize to Shiho because the phrase has lost all meaning. So he closes his eyes and awaits their arrival.

When they reach the airport, Shinichi dumps the burner phone in the first trash can he sees. After what happened in the car, Agasa looks like he's reconsidering letting them go off to who knows where. Despite his expression he still tells them to keep in touch.

"You two are responsible for the choices you make, I trust you'll make the right ones," His hands linger on both Shinichi's and Shiho's shoulders. Shiho hugs Agasa again, holds on tight as she tells him she promises to keep him updated.

Shiho sits in one of the cushioned seats that line the patterned walls, her duffle in her lap and her eyes up at Shinichi who's teetering back on his heels like he's restless. He probably is.

Alone again.

Shiho watches him scrub at his face with his palms a little rougher than necessary before he raises his head, eyes darting around like he's both crazed and lost.

"Shinichi, sit down." She says only loud enough to catch his attention. Shinichi stares at her for about ten seconds before he plops down in the seat next to her. He looks as sad as the navy pattern on the seats. He puts his face into his hands.

The silence between them, already slightly taut, is shattered by the shuddering sob that wracks his body. They don't stop.

"Shinichi?" Shiho scoots closer to him, "Breathe for me. It'll pass." She rubs at his back.

Shinichi tries to fight off the waves of panic that wash over him, quick and overbearing as a riptide. He can no longer hear the people passing around them, children laughing, children crying, and business women on phones. It's all funneled through the white noise in his ears. Boxes him in. It feels like he's bursting in silence. No one can see it happening.

Shiho can.

She's not exactly stable on her own either. Part of her is reconsidering this choice the way Agasa did. Could they really handle themselves without falling apart at the slightest trigger?

Shiho draws in a shuddering breath of her own. Shinichi's calmed down marginally enough to understand her words instead of simply hearing them.

"...do you think we should stay?"

"No."

"You want to leave? Why?" She says quietly.

"Why do you?"

"I have something to find out there." Shiho murmurs, "I think we both do." She looks down at her hands. "Right now, being impulsive is one of the things that will put us at risk," Shiho slips her hand beneath his arm to slide against his palm, intertwines their fingers. This might qualify as an impulsive decision.

They look like a couple that's saying their last goodbyes to each other. They're both rundown and worn. They certainly display the uncertainty, the melancholy.

Shinichi turns to rest his forehead against her temple, "I fucked it up," he breathes, squeezes her hand.

"I won't say you didn't. I also think it's not irreversible. More difficult sure, but she'll listen when you're ready." She can feel Shinichi's unsteady breaths as he tries to avoid another panic attack. They're deep and shaky and so lonely.

"You sure?"

"Yes." She tries to keep her sentences short, doesn't want to overload him with information that might send him spiraling. "You can talk to me in the meantime. I'll hope I'm not as taxing," she adds a little lilt of humor there. Hopefully he continues to relax.

"Never," Shinichi murmurs, nuzzles his nose against her cheek affectionately, briefly.

"I figure, if we haven't predetermined our destination, I could close my eyes and point at the schedule," Shiho teases. She observes the LED screens closest to them, they display flights coming in on one side and flights going out on the other.

Shinichi actually lets out a watery chuckle at that.

"Come on," Shiho stands, "we have a chance to learn something, Shinichi, you of all people wouldn't bypass the opportunity," She holds out her hand to him, still warm from her body heat, his palm.

Shinichi looks up at her, eyes clear and for the first time in a week, he doesn't question how or what he feels. He lets it fill him, stirring and uncomfortable and yet, it feels unbelievably right. If anyone will accept him for everything he's done-

He's found her.

Shinichi scrubs his face again, to clear the redness, to make his hair more unkempt than it was before.

"I think I have a better idea."

Within the hour, they've purchased tickets, Shiho's staring down at hers, wondering why Shinichi chose this destination. She's half convinced he may still be a tad light headed from the anxiety attack.

For her, these tickets are their literal tickets away from what were the last few years of their lives. It still feels like they're running. If anything from different demons now.

At such short notice, they manage separate seats in coach, Shinichi's behind Shiho who's next to a matronly looking woman in a large pink coat that looks too warm in this season to be comfortable. Unable to really hold a conversation, they both settle into their seats with Shiho staring straight ahead and Shinichi staring at the back of her head.

Shiho's never been afraid of flying but she still shuts her eyes as they ascend, the flying precautions having gone in one ear and out the other. She doesn't open them until they've leveled out. Japan is beneath her now, beneath her is the future that Shinichi can still choose to go back to if he wants.

Shinichi focuses on his feet planted on the floor and his arms greedily taking up both armrests. He lets this plane ground him in a way it isn't literally. He opens his eyes and observes the other passengers. Like an itch that's finally being scratched, he notices that the man next to him is married, his wedding ring is hidden in a pocket, or more likely his suitcase. Shinichi would hate to think of a situation where this man would need to do that. Especially with two kids. Shinichi swallows spit and turns his head to face the section of seats on his left.

He tries to detach himself from the lives these people live, (recently divorced, budding drug addiction, a month pregnant, traveling on sabbatical) even they've got things hidden, skeletons dancing in an ever smaller closet. Shinichi closes his eyes once more, each wave of information takes him over like an instinct. It comforts him, the skin on his arms rising in goose flesh. To be in such normal territory, it feels like an anomaly in this situation.

He spends a large portion of the twelve hour flight observing people and drifting in and out of slumber. When he closes his eyes he can see dark hallways and the smell of smoke that jolts him awake as if the plane were suddenly falling. He tries to stay awake after that. From his seat in the middle section, he can only catch flecks of sky through the windows on either side of the plane. Lilac clouds that blend into a dreamy mix of navy and magenta as the sun continually rises with each hour as the time zones pass.

Shiho's been wide awake for over half the flight and spent the other in a dreamless, restless sleep. They're still running. For their lives, their futures. She's calm as conscious and unconscious start to blend together like ink on water wet paper. If anything, she's beginning to repress the events. The blaring noise and the red of the alarm. They become fragile chimes and pastels that echo the sky outside and the three note melodic scale that indicates when the crew is communicating with the cabin. They say they're about three hours out and has Shiho really been asleep that whole time?

The woman next to her is reading a book, it looks worn, the title is in English, "Acceptance" Shiho sounds out, mouth slightly parted. She guesses where they're going it would be advantageous to brush up on her English.

Shinichi did promise to take her to see his parents with him, but she didn't expect it to be so soon. Her jacket isn't nearly thick enough to combat the New York nights, but she figures with their sudden amount of free time she'll remedy that soon enough.

Shinichi's strangely pensive as he holds up a hand to hail a cab, a sea of yellow lights in the oncoming traffic that speeds past their spot on the curb. He's got their two duffle bags, neither of them bursting in any capacity, holding their only belongings; their extra set of clothes, the dirty ones they never got a chance to properly wash, Shiho plans to trash hers before she's forced to put that back on. Their documents are folded away in Shiho's duffle with a throwaway sci-fi novel she plucked from Agasa's book shelf before they left. She was too preoccupied, too restless to actually read it on the plane ride.

Other than their necessary documents and clothes, and some of Shinichi's money he converted back at the airport, they've got nothing else. No toiletries, no phones, hopefully Shinichi's parents are gracious enough to help remedy that.

Shinichi manages to flag down a cab; it slows down to a stop a few feet in front of them. The driver is clad in a very heavy knit scarf that muffles his greeting as they scramble inside.

Shinichi's English is disjointed and mildly practiced when he gives the address. The driver doesn't comment on it as he changes gear and begins picking up speed again.

Shiho eyes the glow of the clock on the dash, a clear 2:00 am in white type is glaring at them. The cab smells stale, there's a hint of cigarette smoke, either the driver or a previous passenger. Not strong enough to warrant a heavy smoker, perhaps the driver had them snuff it out before entering.

The driver forgoes small talk in lieu of silence. Neither of them mind, they're too exhausted to make any anyway. Something about the early hour douses the cab in a thick lethargy.

Shinichi's face is red from the cold; Shiho wants to put her hands on him to warm his skin, if only to see him smile at the antic. The thought passes quickly as she turns her head to the environment outside. Two in the morning is surely early, but the city still looks quite busy. People stalking home, hands deep in the pockets, coats zipped and buttoned up against the cold. Shiho's never seen this many cabs as they turn onto what looks like a main street. Shops are alight and bustling, the glowing colors of the bar lights in the space of the open doors.

The nightlife is almost overwhelming, sky scrapers flirt with the clouds, yellow squares of light indicate lit rooms. The streets themselves are bathed with the burnt yellow of the streetlights, they cast shadows of figures that walk past, make the alley ways darker by comparison.

Traffic is less stuffy during the morning hours if only slightly. The cab slows down and picks up and stops with the flow of other vehicles alongside it.

The cab pulls up to a looming off white apartment complex forty-five minutes later. They're no longer in the heart of the city, but still pretty close to receive a decent amount of traffic.

Shinichi pays the fare, mumbles a thanks before opening the door and stepping out, Shiho right behind him.

"I hope she's awake," Shinichi smiles briefly, ruefully before heading up the steps.

The foyer is pumped with a pleasant warm heat, tidy beige tiles, black cushioned expensive but worn looking chairs line one side and the other is lined with mail boxes for the residents. Each one labeled neatly in black type. The main desk is reasonably unattended at almost three in the morning. Next to the main desk is a door, transparent and surely locked that leads to the stairs and elevators.

Shinichi spots the residential call buttons and begins skimming them for his mother's residence. It simply says "KUDO 34" and that's all Shinichi needs.

Shiho stands a bit behind him, still rubbing the cold from her arms as Shinichi presses the call button.

They wait for about a minute, Shinichi presses and he hears it ringing but no one picks up, so he tries again thirty seconds later. This time he's patched through, he can hear the static.

" _Hello? This is quite early_ -" she starts in English sleepily.

"Mom?" Shinichi cuts, he recognizes her voice easily enough.

" _Shinichi?-Wait-come up I'll buzz you in._ "

A moment later, they hear the hum as the door is unlocked.

Another elevator, polished and wood paneled, it's definitely upper class, quality work. It stops just short of the top floor.

The carpet is dark and plush, creme walls and faceted lights line the ceilings. It's beginning to look a lot like a five star hotel. They look starkly out of place with their thin cheap sweatshirts and beat up trainers.

Shinichi's eyeing the placards on the doors as he passes them. They round a corner and Shinichi beelines towards the end of a hall. The door is dark wood with a rust colored doorknob.

Shiho stares out the window that faces them, she can see the lights of the city like layered constellations, yellow and gold and blue even through the iron work of the window, sectioned off like stained glass.

She turns back just as the door opens, Shinichi gestures for her to join him as his mother welcomes them both in. She takes Shinichi in her arms the moment the door closes. She holds him tight, one hand on the back of his head and the other around his shoulders. Shinichi buries his head in her shoulder.

"Shinichi!" Yukiko murmurs against his cheek. She pulls back to look at his face. Shinichi had tried to straighten out his clothes in the elevator, but he's still quite messy looking. "You're okay," He can tell she's holding back tears, as she brushes at his other cheek with a perfectly manicured thumb.

Shiho feels horribly out of place, she about to search for a place to hide when Yukiko turns to her. Puts a hand on her shoulder.

"Haibara san," she looks thoughtful as she stares into Shiho's face as well. Searching for signs of distress? Contentment? They're both far from it.

"Miyano Shiho, please Kudo san," Yukiko stops her before she can properly bow in respect.

"Shiho," Yukiko says quietly, "I'm glad to see you're okay." She sighs in relief, "I don't doubt that the two of you have been through quite a lot."

"Where's dad?" Shinichi says peering around a staircase to the master bedroom. He sounds so steady, Shiho's a bit in disbelief from his other more fractured persona. He sounds like a child. An innocent and whole child.

"Off being a responsible husband in the face of answering calls at three in the morning," Yukiko's expression is one of exasperation, "-he's sleeping. Meeting with his editor in the morning." Yukiko waves her hand, "enough of him, you look like stray dogs." She gives Shinichi a typical disappointed mother look. "cold and hungry," she starts walking towards the kitchen after gesturing for them both to follow her. "and exhausted aren't you?"

Shinichi's taken off his sweatshirt in the face of the warm apartment. It's all polished wood panel floors and soft carpet, the living room has three windows huddled in the corner that reach the ceiling. The view is frankly breathtaking, even with the lights off, the skyline is interrupted with buildings lit up like Christmas trees.

The kitchen is lit up with rich golden light from a chandelier that looks adjustable as only half the bulbs are on. Shiho finds herself preoccupied with the fresh fruit in a basket on the counter from her spot on a stool. Yukiko occupies herself with making them a quick and easy soup. Shinichi's staring at the food like it's a paradise.

What they're doing is practically qualifies as small talk. Irrelevant and impersonal. Shinichi comments how cold it is over here and this perpetual rehash of discussion topic that is the weather resurfaces for perhaps the millionth time in Shiho's life. She's unnerved by it. Everything at its base elements will remain the same: physical matter, the id and the ego, and even the bare minimum of conversation starters.

Yukiko's half rambling about how much she missed Shinichi and half grumbling about the carrots and potatoes that won't peel and cut the way she wants them to.

Perhaps Yukiko's trying to keep them relaxed, light and noncommittal topics her chosen route. All it does, if anything, is set Shiho more on edge. Now that they're here, what now? Is she going to listen to the topic stylings of the Kudo Yukiko for a solid week? A month? Are they going to stay here?

Yukiko watches Shinichi eat like she can't get enough of him, and maybe she can't. She hadn't seen Shinichi as an adult for about three years when he should have been.

Other than the broth, there are tender potatoes and carrots, celery that's been cooked down, much too short a notice to have cooked any meat to add into it. For the first time in a while, Shiho doesn't just taste salt; she tastes something that feels more complete.

Shiho's belly is pleasantly full and her skin is warmed through and once again full of color compared to the cold of outside. Only then, does she allow her eyelids to begin drooping. Yukiko's apparently quite observant of her, even when she's watching Shinichi's every move.

It's weird sleeping alone. She did foolishly believe for a quick second that Shinichi would be in the room with her. Shiho turns restlessly. Expects her hand to brush against someone else one too many times. She's wearing one of Yukiko's nightdresses until they go shopping, an event Yukiko promises. The room feels uncomfortably big. The furnishings are simple but luxurious. A pair of white shell lounge chairs frames the one window that shows a particular view of the other storied buildings across the street. It's framed by delicate laced curtains. There's a good sized hardwood cabinet in the adjacent corner closer to the bed.

It feels like a figure could loom behind it, ready to kill her. Shiho pulls the blanket over her head and tries not to think about it. She falls into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, Shiho is comforted by the dreary morning, which despite being cloudy still sheds a decent light on the whole room.

There's nothing behind the cabinet.

But she does hear light chatter beyond the closed door.

Shiho pulls on a robe, a smooth grey that matches the clouds outside with neat black trim that Yukiko also provided her with and opens the door slightly. Quiet enough to avoid drawing any attention.

"...Shinichi, the suspect was a former surgeon, thoracic and cardiovascular to be specific, not vascular in general, he had a specialty, that should be obvious-"

"His hands-"

"Yes, but did you see his suitcase?"

"I did," Shinichi says in a way that definitely implies that he did not. He sounds boyish, a child agreeing if only for the sake of argument.

Shiho pulls the robe tighter around her body and pads forward into the living room. Shinichi, who looks like he's about to elaborate, stops abruptly when he sights her. His eyes are bright. Yusaku Kudo is sitting in the chair next to him, still in his robe and house shoes, a cup of steaming coffee on the coffee table in front of him. He looks up too and Shiho freezes.

"Miyano san," Yusaku says warmly, "It's good to see that you too are okay," he rubs his chin.

"Yeah," Shiho makes her way to the couch and sits down, a full cushion between Shinichi and her.

"Ah, Shiho!" Yukiko says from the kitchen, she shuffles into the main room, "would you like some tea? Coffee?"

Shiho agrees to some tea, it's green tea, strong with little sugar, but it's comforting.

She simply listens to Shinichi continue what appears to be a case discussion with his father. Even she can tell Shinichi's being out classed in every manner. Shinichi's resorted to pure stubbornness to hold out on his argument, despite already acknowledging his loss five minutes ago.

Shinichi's about to present a hollow of a precedent when Yukiko announces breakfast is ready.

The table is neat creme mats over a chestnut wooden surface. The display of pancakes and fruit are a simple one, but one Shiho will not take for granted.

She spreads butter across one while Yukiko makes small talk with Yusaku. Yusaku mentions he has a deadline coming up, but hey there are more important things. Yukiko slaps him across the shoulder; he's just trying to find excuses again.

The syrup is sweet and the tea mild, a welcome palate change. Once they're all seated, Yukiko once again resumes her just acquired hobby of watching Shinichi eat.

Shiho notices how Yusaku too keeps the topic relatively light. He'll ask Shinichi little things like how they managed to find the laboratory, how Shinichi felt after taking the antidote and then it stops.

"I was relieved," Shinichi says looking down at his plate. "It felt like a means to an end. Though of course there's always a fear that maybe this is just a strong batch and I'll wake up one day as Conan-" Shinichi chokes, stopping. His fork sinks into the slice of strawberry a bit harder than necessary.

"We're glad we have you, our son back." Yusaku pats him comfortingly on the back; Shinichi swallows and leans into it a bit. Yusaku looks up, "we're glad you're both back here with us." he says.

Shiho's cheeks go red, she's too flustered to do anything else but mumble a thank you. She's immediately transported back to the thick of the black organization case, Shinichi's parents had told the both of them something quite similar.

 _"Regardless of how this plays out, we want you both to know that you'll always have a support with us."_

Shiho loosens a bit in her seat, like Shinichi had said, they are safe here.

Other than Shinichi's near trigger, he's still able to joke with his parents. Yukiko's smiling wider and keeps plopping pancakes onto both their plates as they finish them. She could probably watch Shinichi eat her cooking all day. Yusaku jokes about no longer being the focus of that stare, he's quick to soften it with a compliment about her eyes. A compliment Yukiko only glares at him for.

Shiho's comfortably full when she notices Yukiko begin to collect the dishes and Yusaku begin to tease Shinichi about adding a character in his latest story after the image of Shinichi, "Essential is his slightly below average intelligence."

Shiho moves to help Yukiko clean up, missing Shinichi's retort, "shut up old man," as she joins Yukiko near the sink.

From the soapy water wafts up the scent of peaches. Yukiko's rubber gloves are elbow length and bright pink. She grunts as she works on a caked on egg yolk.

"So, Shiho," Yukiko starts, pausing to hand her a plate. Shiho grabs it from her with one hand and the drying towel with the other. It's patterned with little rolling pins and flour sacks.

"Yes Kudo san?" She replies, unsure.

"It's Yukiko," she hands her a glass. "I figure I could take you out shopping today. How does that sound?"

Shiho immediately shakes her head, "I don't want to inconvenience you. I could figure it out on my own-"

Yukiko wags a soapy finger at her, "You're gonna have to try much harder to get rid of me." She raises an eyebrow. "You'll get lost out there." Yukiko claps, water and soap splatter across the counter and sink and Shiho's night robe. "Now that that's been settled," she smiles. "Tell those two to help clean up."

The traffic during the day is a slow crawl at best and complete stop at worst. Yukiko's taking her to a crop of department stores near the fashion district. Shiho can already anticipate the high prices, but she also knows that Yukiko will be unswayed no matter what she does. So instead, Shiho settles in her seat in the back of the cab that smells strongly of Yukiko's perfume.

Yukiko sits next to her, cozy burnt orange pea coat and hair curled to perfection. Shiho looks positively cheap next to her in jeans and a t shirt, her thin sweater zipped all the way up and her hair messy and longer than she's used to.

Being virtually alone with Yukiko proves more awkward than she thought. Yukiko tries for small talk and she's relatively successful at it too. Shiho tells her that she's never really paid any attention to brand names especially on fashion and she isn't looking to start anytime soon either. Yukiko frowns, but she accepts it as easily as she would an all-expenses paid vacation.

They reach the department store half an hour later. Yukiko's practically dragging her through the throngs of people to a store on the apparent other side of the complex.

To Shiho's surprise it's a chain department store where the prices are relatively decent as well.

They've already gathered enough toiletries to last Shiho a month and they're perusing the racks of jeans when Yukiko starts talking to her.

"Shiho," she says thoughtfully and Shiho immediately has the feeling this isn't just any normal conversation starter.

Instead of outright replying Shiho chooses to closely inspect the tags of the closest pair of jeans for her size. Which of course they are, the whole rack is her size.

"Shiho," Yukiko begins again. "Yusaku and I have been talking-and we want both of you to stay awhile. Here, in New York."

Shiho freezes. What can she even say to that?

"We know that you've been through something we could never completely understand-and it's because of that you deserve a safe place to be until you're back on your feet so to speak," Yukiko doesn't look completely confident in herself for the first time since they've arrived in New York.

Shiho feels affection swell in her chest so suddenly and so completely, she might burst. Her eyes are prickling and she doesn't know what else she wants more than that in this moment.

The chance at a real safe home? That apartment never felt like home.

She's nodding in agreement before she can even register and Yukiko pulls her into a hug.

Yukiko's chuckling in relief, "good gracious sweetheart. You're always, always always welcome here." She rubs Shiho's back. "To tell you the truth, we-Yusaku and I, we were starting to miss what it was like with kids around." She laughs, Shiho does the same, if only to stop any tears from falling. If only to stop the situation getting more embarrassing than it already is. She's crying in her friend's mom's arms in public and it feels right.

Yukiko pulls away to look her in the face, red and blotchy despite the lack of tears. She breathes a sigh of relief, "I don't know what I'd have done if you'd said no," she smiles.

"Thank you, thank you...Yukiko," Shiho wipes at her cheek.

"Of course," Yukiko holds up a pair of jeans, "these are nice," Shiho doesn't know if she's being sarcastic or not, if the overly embellished back pockets are any indication.

Shiho's staring enviously at the ridiculously warm looking jackets when Yukiko continues. She's guaranteed Shiho one coat for now, others will come in due time.

"You know Shiho, I think you should know what Shinichi thought about the whole situation." She says casually.

Shiho's looking at herself in the full length mirror of the dressing room; the coat is thick and army green, a trim of faux fur around the hood. She's glad Yukiko can't see her face. "What did he say?" She tries to act like his opinion won't persuade her at all.

"He said he wouldn't stay if you didn't want to," She states just as casual, like Shiho's heart isn't pounding. "It's good you agreed," Yukiko plows on, "I think settling down, if only for a little bit, will be good for you two. Don't think I'm lying when I say I'm excited to spoil you both with food and the other comforts of home,"

"I think I'd like that," Shiho says honestly. She decides that this jacket is the one.

2nd week

Yusaku literally tries hiding from his editor when it gets too close to a deadline to be comfortable. He's one of a team, wrinkled button up and rust rimmed glasses, shouting up the stairs.

"Don't make me come up there Yusaku, it's time to go!"

Shinichi offers to go up there and facilitate, but the editor declines. "He's like this more often than you think."

Yusaku comes down the stairs more sluggish than usual, blanket around his shoulders. He gives his editor a feeble look, even bothers to fake a cough. "Oh Ahn, I didn't expect you, where's Clara?"

Ahn sighs, "She's too busy to corral you today. Let's go, the sooner you complete this installment the sooner I can bring you back here to do whatever it is you do."

Yusaku's shoulders slump in defeat, "Alright," he turns around and picks up his suitcase at the top of the stairs and sheds his blanket. Ahn sighs again in relief.

"You'll be safe in Yukiko's hands," Yusaku says to them both as Ahn fixes his collar. "That is my son and his friend," He gestures to them, Ahn waves wearily at them before he starts towards the door, in one hand a thick folder and in the other is Yusaku.

Ahn apologizes quickly before shutting the door behind him.

Shiho smiles at that, that was more light hearted than she'd been in weeks. A stark difference to the sharp loneliness that accompanies sleeping alone. It's a loneliness that starts to ebb away with time, she's comfortable in that neat bedroom. It's starting to feel cozier as her personal effects begin to diffuse across every surface.

It doesn't erase the cold sweat she woke up in that morning. Exhausted and out of breath but still able to center herself within minutes. She blinks away the splashes of red and flashes of explosives behind her eyelids. Instead she watches Shinichi observe his parent's shelf of English language volumes before plucking one out. He sort of wanders around the living room, and subsequently her, in search of the perfect spot. It looks more like indecisiveness, but Shiho says nothing.

Shinichi's been keeping his distance, perhaps not consciously, but the additive of his parents has kept him from speaking as honestly as he's wanted.

Shinichi's hand with the book drops to his side, he bites his lip before beginning to speak. "Breakfast?" His voice cracks at the unnatural pitch and he covers it with his free hand. Shiho's stares at him in confusion for a moment before giggling in a manner that makes red rise in his cheeks.

"Y'know since mom's out right now-" Shinichi scrambles for an explanation, each getting less and less plausible Shiho approaches Shinichi to stop him from embarrassing more than he has already.

"That sounds good," Shiho says.

Shinichi finds it ironic he now has to relearn to get used to the alone time, since Yukiko helps out at the youth community center most mornings. She enjoys teaching and giving input, nurturing young souls, she's the mothering type. Shinichi guesses he must have grown up too fast to really give her a chance.

Shiho watches him burn toast and crack eggs across the counter, yolk and egg white splattering across the surface.

"I guess the only thing you're really good at is detective work." she says to which Shinichi frowns.

"You're not much better I'm sure." Shinichi replies washing his hands.

It turns out he's right, but she does fare much better than he did. The omelet and rice turn out a tad too simple but reminds her of home. Maybe not home anymore but simply a place she misses in a certain capacity. It's in that kitchen that she laughs more than she has in weeks. She begins to suspect Shinichi's making the mess for her sake. For both their sakes.

The thought of Yukiko coming home to the mess is enough to set Shinichi into action. He wipes down the dirty counters while Shiho brings their breakfast to the table.

They eat in relative silence. Using the food as acceptable distraction, Shiho can only focus on how she thinks Shinichi's coping with the loneliness. With the nightmares. She'll ask him eventually. But the urge is not yet strong enough to spur her. For now she can wait until he's ready.

...

It's later in the week when Shinichi takes her to the roof of the complex.

The cold is still biting, appropriate of the early spring. However, with the sun directly down on them, there's a hint of warmth that keeps Shiho, clad in jeans and loose t shirt from wishing she'd brought a sweater.

On the other hand, the cold is comforting to Shiho. It's numbing on her skin, bracing and burning in her lungs. For these few moments she tries not to think about the paranoia. It doesn't exist, how could something so tightly, painfully wound up possibly simultaneously exist with this wide easy expanse of sky?

Shinichi's hand is warm where he's holding hers, they stop near the edge, but not close enough to really see over it. He lets go of her hand then. He sits down right there, knees up and watches Shiho wander further to the edge. Her fingers tight on the railing.

"Shiho," he says before she can get lost in the height, in the horizon.

She turns her head back at him, eyes soft but narrowed in the sunlight.

Shinichi breath shudders, he fights to steady himself. "Last night, I- I had a dream, uh, a nightmare really." He says, digging his fingers into his knee cap.

Shiho's still silent, eyes expectant. Hoping she can hear him over the distance he continues.

"It was the laboratory again. I can smell the smoke. The chemicals. I keep hearing gun shots. It's what woke me this morning. I thought someone broke in or something," he scratches his nape with his other hand. He even bothers to laugh at the apparent audacity. It still sounds bitter however, even he knows there's no reason in this situation to trivialize his trauma.

Shinichi looks down at the asphalt beneath him, the little bits of gravel under the heel of his shoe, eyes downcast when he continues again.

"And then I hear screams. They're terrifying, but I'm blinded by the fire and the thick smoke. So I can't do anything, I can't help..I- they're indiscernible, I can't tell who-but enemy or not, all I feel is guilt for leaving them there." He doesn't mention how one of the screams sounds so remarkably like Shiho, it wakes him up every time. Sweat soaked and in panic.

Shiho's shut her eyes to it, a subconscious bid to stop the swell of experiences, angry and hot and bloody beneath her skin. She's leaning heavily on the railing, white knuckled. Shinichi still wanted to help those people, those people that wanted to do them harm and Shiho's first thought about the ensuing fire had been about liberation. For both parties.

Shinichi fully understands that talking about it will give rise to Shiho's own nightmares, but right then, letting it out, giving it a home somewhere else in this vast world, not necessarily Shiho, is one if the things keeping him going day to day, week to week. Perhaps it will do the same for her eventually.

Shiho fights the urge to vomit. Instead, steadying herself on the railing and letting her eyes flutter open.

"How often does it happen?" She says into the space.

Shinichi lifts his head to look at her, "Every other day probably-but in different variations obviously."

Shiho could've assumed as such, it's been more or less the same for her. She doesn't know what to say to that that he doesn't already know so she simply turns back to the railing.

Everything, the people, the cars, the doors looks impossibly tiny. Ready to disappear should they shrink any more.

Shiho stares down the side of the building, marking every window sill and the decor she can see through parted blinds and wonders what it would be like to fall down it. The realization that everything could just be over renders her breathless. The idea that she could fly makes her stomach flutter, simultaneously tampering down the bile in her throat. Her hands tighten around the railing. Could Shinichi stop her? Everything seems so easy in that moment, so easy to end, or begin. Shiho chokes on a breath, her knees buckling, like her body is protesting.

The hands pressing around her waist ground her, keeps her there better than her body ever could. One of Shinichi's hands shifts forward to cover one of her own wrapped around the railing. He too tightens his palm, both of them seeking something to hold onto during the storm.

Though he doesn't speak, even Shiho understands what he's asking, what he saying. _Don't fly. I'll ground you. There's something out here for you to find too. I'll help you find it._

Shiho wants so badly to believe him. So, for once, she lets the hope begin to fill her and spill over like water over a cliff's edge. If that is what he truly believes, Shiho has less trouble than she anticipated accepting it.

They can't be this messy forever. Maybe from time to time.

"I won't," Shiho says barely above the sound of the breeze. Shinichi's hand squeezes hers. It's difficult for her to complete the thought. She won't what? She won't go over the edge? She won't let this consume her? She won't leave him to fend this alone? Her bottom lips trembles with the sheer force of her own words. Her refusal operates much like a hardened promise. She won't forget it now that she's said it.

"I won't either," Shinichi replies quietly, he rests his forehead between her shoulder blades.

...

A day later, Yusaku returns, fresh off a luxury excursion with his manuscript and his even more harried looking editor. While Shinichi definitely revels in having his father and his mother around after such a long time away, he does often find their presence to be a tad overbearing. Twice they've woken up Shinichi with a heartfelt number on how much they missed him, Shinichi likes to pretend he's still sleeping and thus acts like it never happened afterwards. Yukiko, when she has time, busies herself with making dishes that remind Shinichi of home, a place Shinichi doesn't necessarily want to be reminded of right then. Not in these circumstances.

Shinichi stares at the pork cutlets or the rolled eggs and a form of Ran swims in his vision. He eats it quickly, lets the image fade away as the food on his plate does the same. Shiho's noticed it on more than one occasion. As a result, Shinichi sometimes slips off before his mother wakes. It's not easy to lose Shiho, regardless he has no problem letting her come along.

They end up in a cramped brick laid diner, it's sandwiched on a corner between a gelato shop and an accessory boutique. It smells heavily of coffee beans, the walls are covered in framed pictures and naked bulbs dot the ceiling. They're wedged in the corner Shinichi against the wall and Shiho facing him in view of the window.

Shinichi's nursing a weak looking tea and a plain toasted biscuit; he's scribbling on a napkin between bites of food and talking to her all the while. They've exhausted the easy topics like the weather and the differences from Japan to their current location. They're both deliberately trying to keep from heavy topics. It becomes apparent how difficult it is keep from topics when they've relied and lived in the depths of their pain for so long.

There's a natural lull in conversation, Shiho sips at her coffee which manages to still be bitter despite the extra creme she ordered with it. She mourns for the lost sugar opportunity and instead nibbles at the pancakes on her plate. They're coated in melted butter and soaked in maple syrup. It's sweeter than she's used to.

"Yukiko san's cooking that bad huh?" Shiho says snidely, she doesn't mean it but it's enough to bait Shinichi into looking up at her.

He quirks an eyebrow, "No," He pouts boyishly. His hand that's holding the pen tightens, he takes a moment to relax. "It just...reminds me of things I don't want to remember right now." Shinichi says at last, a little defeated. "I knew you'd notice eventually," he bites his lip.

"You should remember that if anything," Shiho smiles, she takes in a moment to glance at the folded napkin under Shinichi's hand. It's purely impulsive when Shiho snatches the paper when Shinichi moves to drink at his tea.

Shinichi flounders for a quick second before he settles looking rueful. Shiho only glances down at it to see a series of what looks like names and places.

"It's things I don't want to think about anymore," he says quietly, the tender balance of levity finally broken. "For now anyway." he's not looking at her, instead choosing to peer into his half empty tea mug like it will answer him instead.

Shiho searches his downcast eyes beneath long black lashes and breathes out a sigh, "then maybe I should read up on it," she says thoughtfully.

How can she be so understanding? Shinichi's eyes snap to her at that, he's a little taken aback by that.

"We're here together." Shiho elaborates. "And we'll figure out all this together. Before anything else." She averts his eyes when she says that, her cheeks going a little pink.

Shinichi's heart stutters in his chest, if he ever had doubts, he doesn't think he ever did, what she's said clearly wipes away any there may be. In this moment their partnership is simultaneously strengthened and laid bare.

"Alright," Shinichi says quietly, tenderly. He wants to touch her, wants to physically affirm their connection. They're close enough their knees touch, so he settles with playfully nudging her knee with his own. She stifles a giggle. Hides her smile in the pool of syrup on her plate. Sweeter than she's used to.

3rd week

It's nearing the end of the week, Yusaku is once again gone at the behest of his editor, Clara this time, had picked him up with the idea that he'd get something done for once. She's petite with bright red lipstick and a glare that would scare most grown men. Shinichi's spent most of the afternoon going over popular English phrases with Shiho, who for once, simply wants to nap. Shiho alternates between plucking the flashcards out of his hands and teasing him in English, which she appears to be learning quicker than him. Shinichi pouts and resolves to study harder, he'll thoroughly understand her by the end of the month.

At this point, the sun has long set and Yukiko had already bid them a goodnight. Shinichi swears he saw his own mother wink at him before she left.

Each moment he spends with Shiho, is a constant reminder that his feelings aren't weening in the least. In fact, they appear to be getting stronger, he's afraid if he neglects to tell her, or keeps it in any longer, his heart is going to burst and she'll definitely see that. He's also worried about making the same mistake that he did with Ran. He doesn't want to think about her then, but he fears he could lose Shiho if he just sits around and does nothing-

"Kudo-" Shiho waves around a flashcard in front of his face, promptly snapping him back to attention. It appears to be a new one. Written in Shiho's sloping handwriting is the word _brevity._ With lightly flushed cheeks, Shinichi snatches the card from her hand and flips it over for the definition.

 _[noun] [brev-i-tee] 1. the quality of expressing much in a few words; 2. shortness of time or duration; briefness_

"The brevity of human life," Shiho says in English, easy and nonchalant. She's staring up at the ceiling from her lounge across all the couch cushions, Shinichi's on the floor surrounded by piles of flashcards; phrases, new, old, and to repeat name each pile. They're a mix of both their handwriting. Shinichi had tried to splurge on medical and criminal forensic terminology to which Shiho narrowed her eyes and suggested they start with the basics first.

"Brevity..." Shinichi repeats quietly, is she trying to tell him something? His gut tightens in response at the sheer potential. Generally, by having Shiho, the study sessions, and a whole slew of other things taking up his time, his dreams have been more pleasant, and he's also noticed his anxiety has sort of leveled out for the time being. It's a welcome change that gives way for things like courage and want to fill up the temporarily vacated spaces.

"Shiho?" Shinichi says, clenching his fists, the card forgotten in his lap. He won't wait this time.

Shiho turns her head to look at him, eyes light and expectant.

"Indulge me for second," Shinichi fights his urge to change the subject and pretend he's not about to do what he's about to do. Shiho sits up, she sees the hesitance he's trying so hard to tamper down and nods.

They take the stairs up to the roof, Shinichi needs the walk up the steps to distract him and give him time to gather his thoughts. He's leading her up the stairs with a clammy hand and part of him hopes she already reads everything off him so he doesn't have to embarrass himself.

There doesn't seem to be any lights out on the roof when they emerge from the entry way. Shinichi stops there in front of the railing they might have gone over should another unfortunate timeline have transpired. He leads Shiho to look over at the saturation of lights a stark contrast to the inky night sky.

Shinichi stands there, eyes drawn to her, the white hot tones reflecting in her eyes that are staring with wonder at the shining skyline and he's transported back to London. The place he told Ran his feelings where very real. So tangible in that moment he would have given anything to consummate them.

He's watches Shiho with the same wonder she gives the sea of lights and the pang of guilt begins to ebb away. He feels foolish for believing that everything would stay the same. But he's here, heart sprinting in his chest, a small bird in an even smaller cage. Where his conviction is so strong London almost doesn't compare.

"Shiho," Shinichi starts quietly, it's so bare of volume he's at risk of being drowned out by the wind that hits the rooftops like wave breaking against a cliff face.

She turns towards him, the skyline apparently forgotten. "What is it?" She hides her fear, her hope well.

Shinichi's peeks at her bright eyes and dainty lips. He hasn't been able to touch her since that night in that dank kitchen which seems worlds away now.

"Shiho," Shinichi breathes, says it again because she simultaneously calms him and makes his pulse skip. He looks down at his feet so he doesn't have to see her expression. "I want you," he glances at her sneakers across from his. They must new.

"Are you sure about that?" She says just as breathless, just as apprehensive.

"Yes," he says quickly, throat dry, too quickly even. "We've been through-too much. I share everything with you and I want to keep doing that-if you'll let me." He looks up then, her expression is neutral, unimpressed even. Shinichi's heart thuds particularly hard like his fight or flight response is about activate. He's about to run when she finally speaks.

"I could say the same for you," She smiles towards the horizon at that. Shinichi feels everything crashing inside him at once. "I'm not ready to go back. So I'll keep going. We'll-I'll move forward with you." It's her turn to stare at her feet, her blush is strong and very pink.

Shinichi feels a wave of pure relief wash over him, the same way red flushes his cheeks in return. On the other hand, he's also blanking spectacularly when it comes to what the next step is. Do they kiss? Do they hug? What now?

Shiho takes the initiative by stepping closer into his space. Her confidence is returning bit by bit, evident when she slips her hand in against his, intertwining their fingers together. It's comforting, the way it's always been, perhaps even more so now. Shinichi's unsure where all these nerves came from regarding their closeness because they've certainly done more than kiss, but right then, it's like he's entering something entirely new and unexplored.

There's a genuine grin stretching his very pink cheeks when she leans in to kiss him on the cheek. He tightens his hand around hers. She squeezes back in response.

It's still hard to get words out after that. They watch the lights for a little while longer, a new warmth between them. There's no need to break the comfortable silence that has settled around them both like fog shrouding the tops of trees.

Eventually they do start speaking about anything and everything. Shiho mentions what she remembers of going to school here in America, to which Shinichi palms his forehead, how could he forget that? No wonder she was such a natural at English.

"How about you teach me," Shinichi crosses his arms and pouts before he can fully grasp any implications he may or may not have meant.

Shiho's leaning on the railing again, her cheek is lit in a faint splatter of red and yellow from the lights below and on in the windows in the nearest building across from them. She smirks, the light playing on the curl in her lip. Shiho turns back to face the street.

If Shinichi narrows his eyes all he sees is her silhouette against the bright windows. He's sitting down a bit behind her, a mirror of their positions just last week.

But there's an even bigger world of hope to look up to now.

"Don't hold your breath."

Shinichi smiles because this is the Shiho, the Haibara he's known for so long. She's vulnerable and stubborn and sometimes finds herself unworthy of saving. But if Shinichi could tell her that she deserves the world without stuttering through it, he would. But for now he'll settle with standing next to her.

Shiho shifts to press their shoulders together.

"How long should we stay here?" She starts quietly like she doesn't want him to hear it if he chooses.

Shinichi shrugs, "A bit longer, I'm not ready," he says honestly staring down at his hands.

He'd been thinking about it for at least a week now. He's not yet satisfied, much less as stable as he was before all this happened. But he's at least realistic enough to understand he may never be there again, perhaps feign a facade, perhaps inhabit it temporarily but nothing more.

He's thought about it in spaces between wakefulness and nightmare, dream and sleep.

"I'm not either."

They don't leave the rooftop for another hour and a half.

With a yawn from Shiho, Shinichi lets her lead them back down to the apartment. He hopes his mother hasn't noticed their absence.

Shinichi only has to wake up the next morning to see the difference that has been made. Shiho's still speaking in soft tones as his mother informs them of the fridges contents because she'll be late for the community center if she stays any longer.

Yukiko leaves in a flurry of faux fur and sharp smelling perfume.

Breakfast is awkward to say the least. Shinichi fights his automatic response to blush every time Shiho speaks. So he settles with drowning these uncontrollable feelings in his bitter mug of coffee.

Once Shiho teases him about it as she cracks an egg over the pan the same way she does the meek veil he's created, they easily fall back into the groove they've always been in.

Only now Shiho's touches linger just a few seconds longer. A contradiction to the sharp words she utters when she's getting him to help clean up. They continue in this push and pull of affection and frustration at their own hesitance for a few days before it falls together.

The next morning, Yukiko's shuffling around, this time with ample time as she stuffs her wallet and phone into her purse. Shinichi's woken up by the rustle, much earlier than normal.

Yukiko jumps when the door opens to reveal a sleepy looking Shinichi.

She lets her hands fall to her side, "I was trying not to wake you." she sighs, "some of the students have auditions this morning and I wanted to help them prep." Yukiko purses her lips.

"Don't let me stop you," Shinichi yawns, scratching at his belly.

"Expect your father back this afternoon," Yukiko says before leaving.

"Yeah,"

The door closes and Shinichi's once again left with his thoughts. His hand is frozen on the door handle to Shiho's room. Is it wrong of him to seek the comfort he'd wished he'd buried himself in back in that apartment? He's half afraid that Shiho would reject him but perhaps they've both missed it.

Shinichi opens the door slowly, hands suddenly clammy. He's ready at a moment's notice to run from the room and perhaps hide himself for the rest of the day, maybe in shame, if she shows even a hint of uninterest.

She's stirring, but not quite awake yet. Shinichi at least tries to open it slowly to avoid startling her.

"Shiho," he says quietly. He's transported to that dank bedroom, Shiho's tossing around restlessly, tank top soaked with sweat, breaths shallow.

But here she is, peaceful and rhythmic, no dark circles beneath her eyes. He's captivated by the sight. It'll be just like in the apartment when he slips in bed with her. The feel of her weight next to him is immediately comforting. He only recognizes the ache he'd had in the face of his otherwise empty bed now that she's there.

Shinichi slips a hand up against her waist, rests his head between her shoulder blades. He's lost in her scent, the soap in the bathroom, a note of floral from the laundry detergent, eyes slowly closing, nodding to sleep when he feels her hand join his, she intertwines their fingers. That's the last thing Shinichi takes note of before he falls asleep.

It's perhaps midmorning when he's woken up again, this time by Shiho rustling around. Shinichi tightens the fingers he has around her waist. He feels her stir awake, her breathing still slow but naturally uneven with life, a yawn and a deep breath that expands her chest, her stomach.

He's got a half mind to say something, a sleepy good morning that makes her simultaneously smile and roll her eyes at him. Instead, he pulls himself closer, close enough their bodies are pressed together.

Her nape is warm and smells faintly of shampoo. Shinichi brushes a bit of her hair away from his nose.

"Where's Yukiko?" Shiho says quietly. She appears to understand the circumstances immediately.

He watches her lift a hand to join his, she slips her fingers between his once more.

"Early engagement at the community center," is all he says.

In other worse circumstances, he's taken back to those sweat soaked sheets, the room that appeared much more crowded than it actually was. He blinks and it's Shiho's shuddering body beside him, she's struggling to breathe like her lungs have halved in capacity.

Shinichi swallows down the panic starting to swell in his gut and focus on the Shiho in front of him.

Her body rises with gentle measured breaths, calms him as much as it calms her. He tries to hide the shiver in his own body but he's unable to stifle the choked sound that stiffens his whole form.

Shiho feels it immediately; she turns in his hold to face him, eyes wide, asking for his status.

Shinichi chuckles in spite of it, "I'm fine. Really, I am. Just a few things came back." Shinichi says, letting go of Shiho to shift onto his back. He runs his hand through his hair, doesn't hide the sharp breath that he pulls in.

Why couldn't he just forget all of that?

They lie in silence for a few moments. He knows Shiho's only playing around with different approaches. She wouldn't be Shiho if she didn't pin point his apprehensions to his face.

Before she speaks, she's caught between keeping her distance and reconnecting them. She settles with the latter by placing her hand right there in the middle of his chest. If she splays her fingers perhaps she could feel his heart beat. A beat that changes with the slightest thought.

"The room, it doesn't feel like it's closing in when you're here," is what she says.

Shinichi melts down against the mattress, how can she just know what to say?

He covers her hand with his own, squeezes her smaller palm.

Shinichi sighs deeply, suddenly exhausted, "Shiho, can I kiss you?" His cheeks go bright red against his will, Shiho is a mirror reflection of him, eyes wide, cheeks a deep pink.

She recovers quicker than him however, like usual, "Yes," she stares down at their hands.

He's taken aback by the warmth of the room, of her body, of the light that filters through the blinds. This is different. It isn't a rush of desperation he feels when he kisses her this time. He isn't fresh off a life threatening event, content to simply still be breathing. Instead his stomach churns invisible contents and sends his heart into a beat that isn't all together subtle or peaceful. He's quickly learning that Shiho is not something to be taken for granted.

Shinichi lets go of her hand to pull her closer and they're not stopping. Between their lips is pleasure for the sake of pleasure.

Shinichi wants to get lost in it.

The seam of Shiho's lips is easy and forgiving, his tongue slips in easily. He's perfectly content with getting carried away the moment he hears her sharp inhale when they pull apart.

The way Shiho's expression is tender, eyes almost in wonder, Shinichi's both comforted and overcome with a rare sort of relief that she's no longer in danger, that she's safe, that she's here with him.

Shinichi places closed mouth kisses against her throat, barely there, the brush of long grass reeds. Her slim fingers curl around his upper arm, she bares her throat to him, gentle slope and expanse of soft skin. Shinichi missed having her this close, for however fleeting it was back in Japan.

It's no longer loneliness he feels emanating from her, bubbling beneath cool clammy skin, between the protruding ribs and collar bones. Shiho lies there under him, buttery colorful cheeks and feels nothing but love.

Shiho parts her lips and welcomes him back in, his hands slip beneath the thin material of her night shirt. She's delightfully and expectedly naked underneath. Shinichi's glad he no longer feels the tenderness of the bruise there.

The room is still dipped in darkness, a strikingly tender balance between the recession of night and the arrival of day.

Even so, Shinichi can make out her features pretty well, the bud of her lower lip, the rise of her cheek, the slope of her breast against his hands, his mouth.

Her voice is gentle rise of sharp breaths and a murmur of words. His name, his permission.

And just as he's about to pull down her shorts she stops him.

"Wait," Shiho stops him with a firm hand to his chest.

Panic begins to well up internally, Shinichi stiffens above her. "What?"

"I'd be genuinely surprised if you actually pulled out any form of protection." She smirks like it's a challenge and Shinichi's face falls.

"I'd be surprised if I found one too." Shinichi admits ruefully. Just the thought of rummaging through his parents' things out of the slight chance they have some only promises Shinichi a world of otherwise avoidable psychological damage.

He'd rather die first.

She has an actually has a point. Now that he has time to actually think about it, he'd rather not take the chance either. They probably won't be as lucky.

Shinichi pulls his hands away, clearly anxious once again, "Then what?" He knows he sounds stupid, as if there aren't countless things to do instead, like cleaning the house for Yusaku's arrival, or running away from this situation.

Shiho's lids are halfway down, more doleful than affectionate. She leans up and kisses his temple, "Breakfast?"

Without waiting for an answer, she slips out from under him, smooths down her shirt and leaves the room like Shinichi isn't half hard in his pants.

Shinichi frowns, clutching the sheets between his fingers briefly before getting up himself, his stomach grumbles loudly while he wills the erection to disappear.

Shiho's mixing in the miso paste with some chopsticks she found in the utensil drawer, matte black and generally unused looking next to the sparkling silver of the forks and spoons.

She hears the grind of the chair legs as it's pulled out from under the table. Shinichi clears his throat to alert her of his presence.

They've both silently agreed perhaps it just isn't the right time to take that plunge so soon.

"Shinichi?" Shiho says as the broth starts to simmer.

"What is it?" He tries to sound less concerned than he really is, he doesn't want it to come off as an overreaction.

It's over breakfast that they decide to leave New York at the end of the month.

4th week

With Yusaku back home for the foreseeable future, Shinichi finds his alone time with Shiho rather stunted. Not that he particularly minds, he'd missed his parents and being able to spend time with them like before everything happened has helped create a better sense of normalcy. They don't pity him or treat him any different, Yukiko still teases him mercilessly, never forgets to pinch his cheeks in the process; while Yusaku makes sure he still has much to learn in the way of detective work. He's even been helping and advising Shinichi on possible next steps concerning his career and health.

They've been so supportive, Shinichi never feels anything short of a rush of affection when he takes the time to give them thought, even when they're irritating him.

Shiho, on the other hand, has become a sort of anchor for him. She's both the storm and the light that ends up guiding him.

She's beginning to represent so many things for him it borders terrifying.

Shinichi's only half guilty now that he's sure he's more or less moved on. When Shiho gently tugs at his wounds, slips her hand deep into the tear, it's only her Shinichi sees doing so, it's only her he'll allow to know him this well, this completely.

Shinichi watches her open up steadily through the week. To Yusaku and Yukiko, to him even more so. His parents are definitely beginning to take her beneath their wings, their unbelievably busy yet understanding tutelage, whether Shiho wants to or not, she'll probably end up there eventually should she stop thinking about it.

Not that Shinichi has a problem with that. His mother wants to take Shiho out for fancy dinner and shopping trips whenever the chance arises, Shiho, ever gracious, takes her up on the offer, if only to appease her and simply because she does actually enjoy them deep inside.

Shinichi doesn't know if either of his parents have caught on yet or they're simply good enough actors to feign naivety, but he thanks them regardless for the lack of urgency he knows they're prone to emanate.

Shinichi watches Shiho hand Yusaku a pencil from across the coffee table. He's explaining to her how the layout of a flat can become an advantage in certain closed room cases.

Yusaku taps the paper, the sketchy lines beneath it with the dull tip of the pencil.

"...open floor plans can often be a hindrance when to comes to finding and utilizing the counter weight method of locking a door. A closed, more narrow hall, gives both the proximity and the potential for tighter setups. Setups that may or may not mean the difference between getting away and getting caught-"

"Both setups are equally likely to yield a clean crime scene. The amount of evidence that's left behind depends on the criminal themselves," Shinichi chimes in, he's halfheartedly doing a word search from a tabloid that came free with a juice he bought from a convenience store the other day. The juice: mango, the word search: rather lackluster. Instead of searching for the provided words, Shinichi circles around in square and rectangle shapes that resemble crude mazes and also defy the simple rules to make new ones.

He pauses in the middle of the new found word, 'tame,' pencil stalling as Yusaku gives a hearty rebuttal.

He's half droning passionately about various averages from Japan and the United States and their various methods of initially completing a locked door murder.

Yukiko busies herself with opening and closing various cabinets in search of something or nothing, there's no doubt she's heard the whole spiel on other occasions.

"...I was simply teaching Miyano chan about some of the more technical aspects that come with contemplated murder,"

"Miyano chan?" Shinichi furrows an eyebrow, perhaps they've stayed a little too long.

Shiho gives him a rather content look, one that looks lived in.

"She is always welcome here, might as well," Yusaku says, proud of himself.

Well both his parents are present, so there's no reason not to pull the band aid.

Shinichi nods at the explanation, places his pencil down on the table, with only half of the word 'angle' (this time provided) circled.

"Dad, mom," Shinichi says in a tone that immediately catches their attention. It's meek sounding, hesitant, not Shinichi's usual confidence. It heralds back to when they first arrived and the silences were long and often.

Yukiko approaches the table, settles on standing at Yusaku's other side.

Shinichi puts his hand up, "Oh, it's not that bad." He pauses, it'll never be _that_ bad. He stares back at Shiho, she's crossed her arms, but her eyes are still warm. "To put it simply, we'll be out of your hair soon," Maybe framing it comically will stop Yukiko from grasping Yusaku's shoulder with tight fingers, maybe it'll stop Yusaku from putting down his pencil and drawing his brows together, expression thoughtful.

But it doesn't.

"When do you plan on leaving?" Yukiko gets right to the bottom of it right out of the gate.

It's Shiho that replies, "At the end of his month,"

It only takes a moment for both of Shinichi's parents to understand that there's less than a week and a half left of the month.

"You don't necessarily have to say why, we've got enough idea of your situation and we've never had to hold you back previously-"

Yukiko cuts over her husband, "-we just want you to be safe, like always," Yukiko smiles at him.

It's like there's another collision happening inside his body, heart and lungs inflating enough to burst, to stutter. He can't feel it but there are tears slipping down his cheek.

It's the first time Shiho has seen him openly and unashamedly cry after everything. Shinichi told her, cuddled up against her back, hands pressed together, that his nightmares aren't really going away, but he's getting better at coping with them.

He finds his throat closed, stapled shut, it aches but he cannot get out the thank you that bubbles up his esophagus.

Yukiko's hugging him again, and he's digging his fingers into the fabric of cotton cardigan she wears.

Even though they both accept his choices, it cannot stop them from genuinely worrying about his safety, about both their safety.

5th week

To help, Yukiko has strongly suggested taking them on yet another shopping trip for supplies that they may need. Shiho finds herself getting anxious with each passing day. It's isn't the paranoia so much as it is the unpredictability of what the next few months of their lives may be.

Shinichi's at their heels, one arm laden with a few bags, mostly his mothers.

Both of them have noticed Yukiko spending more time at home with them, perhaps their leaving simply coincided with a break in the youth center operation weeks, but regardless, they try to keep the atmosphere as light as possible.

The three of them are perusing the higher quality coats, ones that should last quite a while despite the oncoming summer when Shiho notices Yukiko casting these glances when she thinks Shiho isn't looking. Not malicious, simply concerned.

She doesn't blame Yukiko, watching her son go through what he's going through and having to settle with being in the dark about so much of it even unknowingly is probably eating at her. It eats at Shiho too, his nightmares are hers, his fears permeate the darkness before she sleeps, and his mistakes are Shiho's necessities.

Shinichi curiously disappears behind a neighboring rack of sweaters when Yukiko finally speaks.

"It feels like you two just showed up yesterday," she looks down at the fabric in her hands, squeezes the plush between her fingers.

Shiho's silent, no reply comes immediately so Yukiko continues.

"You're also both adults, you have the right to make whatever choices you deem to be correct," she sighs at that.

Shiho greets her teeth then loosens her jaw, sets the sweater back on the rack by its plastic hanger.

"Yukiko, I understand it seems sudden and I also know that we'll never truly be the burdens we claim we are. It's simply a front, we're getting out because right now, we don't know where we belong. We don't know if that's in Japan, or here or someplace completely different. But what we do know is that we're frustrated with what we've been left to deal with. I'd never want to impose-"

"Shiho," Yukiko starts, "You. You're welcome here always. You mean a lot to Shinichi, to the both of us, Yusaku and me. We gave you our support during the investigation and I want you expect it to always be there."

Shiho's beginning to grow weary of department stores. They appear to be Yukiko's choice place for impromptu therapy.

"That means a lot to me," Shiho says quietly. It comes from a place where the rest of her family is gone. Where her connection with Shinichi and his connections are all she may have going for her.

Yukiko's eyes are sparkling, her peach tinted lips stretch into a smile. "You'll watch out for each other won't you?"

"Yes," Shiho replies. Like always.

It's that moment Shinichi appears behind Shiho, he steps right up beside her, an inch of distance between their shoulders.

"Mom," Shinichi says, "I'll make sure to keep in touch. I don't think we'll be doing anything too crazy. We just need time-we need space to ourselves." He puts a hand on Yukiko's shoulder, gives it a comforting squeeze.

Yukiko looks relieved at that, "That doesn't stop me from worrying about you. Do you know where you're going at least?"

Shinichi rubs his chin, "I'm afraid that's confidential information mother." He smirks, enough levity in his voice Yukiko sees fit to pat him across the cheek.

Seeing no other way to press for answers. She's seen that expression on Shinichi's face enough times to know there's no more answers to be reaped until he decides to tell her himself.

"Fine," her voice is clipped, clearly frustrated.

Shinichi's expression grows serious again, "You don't have to worry, really. I think, I want to say the worst is over, but even I don't really know that," he glances at Shiho.

"Is there anything we can do to help assure you?" Shiho says to which Yukiko waves her hand.

"I'm overreacting, I was supposed to reassure the two of you-not the other way around," Yukiko brushes a bit of hair out of her face. "I'm used to letting Shinichi go off on his own. I know you can handle it, but this seems like something so much bigger-I guess the thing I'm most frustrated about is the fact that this is something neither Yusaku or I can actually help with."

"Mom-"

"It's fine, I'll be fine," Yukiko chuckles, "this is the least I could do before you go."

After that, Yukiko sets out with renewed determination to help them prepare for the next step of their journey. Whatever that may be.

Shiho makes sure they've only purchased essentials with the exception of some postcards Shiho wants to send back to Agasa.

The day ends rather uneventfully, with a homemade dinner at home, Yukiko's warmed to the idea rather quickly within the last few hours. Even going so far as think of it like some vacation. Her mind definitely run amok.

The cab ride to the airport is warmer than the chilly exterior if only due to the enclosed space, the heater doesn't even seem to be running.

Shinichi's parents are in the cab behind them. There was nothing he could do to dissuade them from wanting to see them off.

This time, he has better sense than to initiate phone calls he isn't ready for. Shiho's once again looking out the window, but their hands are pressed together between them.

The last month truly felt like a dream. If that dream consisted of on and off nightmares and hollow isolation. At least, the fear of being followed or tricked had at the very least abated.

But it was also so warm, Shiho's eyes reflecting the street lights below even from so high up, Shiho's skin, soft and full of color, no longer deathly pale. She thrived and as a result Shinichi did too. If their relationship pans out the way he hopes, New York will become as important to him as home. For once, he didn't wait. He was done waiting for this returning hope to eventually morph into regret or maybe even disappears entirely.

Truth be told, he'd purchased their plane tickets beforehand this time. One of those many nights where neither of them could sleep. So instead Shiho would muse to him about the places she's always wanted to visit. Places she had been to when she was little, places that simply hold too much meaning to her that she never wants to visit again.

"I miss the smell of the ocean," Shiho had said, her eyes searching his over the laptop screen.

"West coast?" Shinichi shifts the laptop on his thighs into a more comfortable position before typing in the address to a travel planning site. Shiho shifts closer so both of them can see the locations, the dates, the prices.

"Maybe," she smiles.

The cab slows to a stop.

Shinichi pays fare and they both exit and retrieve their bags from the trunk. Shiho stares down the lane as they wait for Shinichi's parents. The same lane Shiho remembers from when they arrived. The cabs are still many, yellow dots on the chilly grey backdrop of clouds and soot stained aged architecture.

Five minutes later Shinichi spots Yukiko and Yusaku exit their cab a little ways down the same road. Yukiko's bundled in a pale green pea coat and grey scarf, a contrast to Yusaku black double breasted trench coat. Shiho's hands are stuffed in her pockets, as they wait. The tip of her nose is red while her breath is visible with each exhale.

It's easy to lose them in the loose crowd of people also navigating the airport. Yukiko's only visible by the peek of warm brown hair, incredibly healthy looking despite the piercing cold that keeps everyone else hidden beneath hats and scarves that circle their throats and heads like hoods.

They don't plan on following them inside, but that doesn't stop Yukiko from grasping onto the crook of Shinichi's elbow, holding him close like she'll never see him again.

"No need for reassurances," Yukiko says once she pulls away and takes Shiho into her arms next. Her hug is tender and even combats the cold. It's almost familial. Enough that Shiho feels a little catch in her throat.

"You're both in good hands," Yusaku says, ruffling Shinichi's hair. "I do expect to see you too again eventually." He adds, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, you'll hear of me," Shinichi grins knowingly.

"Now, now, perhaps working will help you too get back into the swing of things," Yukiko says seriously, she's pulled away from Shiho, however, she's got Shiho's hands nestled between hers. The lack of gloves allows Shiho to feel how soft her hands are.

"I'll get to it when I feel up to it, which will be soon." Shinichi says.

"Thank you very much for your hospitality." Shiho bows her head slightly. It's incredibly formal considering she calls Shinichi's mother by her first name.

Both of them are shaking their heads. "The pleasures all ours," Yusaku replies. He reaches forward and gives Shiho's arm a comforting squeeze. "I expect to hear more from you too. You can give Shinichi a real run for his money." Yusaku chuckles and Shinichi doesn't object.

"Of course."

...


	2. Part 2

Month 1

"Shinichi, come on!" Shiho's running along the rolling asphalt hills like they're nothing. Shinichi wonders why he's the only one still exhausted from the six hour plane ride.

From one coast to the other, the smell of brine permeates the air like perfume. Transports them back to Japan, different sides of the same ocean.

She leans wholeheartedly against the rusting railing and stares into blue distance with wide eyes, her hands, hold tight to the edge.

Shinichi's breathing hard when he catches up, he settles next to her, close enough their shoulders brush. He lets the cool sea air dry the sweat from his skin.

"San Francisco, huh?" Shinichi smiles into the muted green of the ocean expanse.

"This makes me happy," Shiho says quietly, more to herself than Shinichi, but he still blushes in the meantime. Seeing her content, in turn makes him feel the same. He'd forgotten what that mutual triumph over the small things felt like. What it felt like when Ayumi or Mitsuhiko contributed a vital clue without even meaning to to crack the case wide open, what it felt like when Heiji was somehow able to pin the suspect only for Shinichi to have to provide the conclusive proof. What it felt like when Ran won a judo trophy. They were happy, proud and it made Shinichi so proud too.

Shinichi leans over and kisses her. Lightly, barely there. Shiho smiles, half curious as to the source of his newly emboldened attitude.

"What brought that on?" She says, eyes still on the early afternoon horizon.

"It felt right," He clenches his fists, hoping for all there is that that wasn't a misstep.

"Relax Kudo," Shiho turns towards him then, her eyes are teasing, playful. "There's no need to have a crisis after every step."

She reads him and it feels like comfort.

They spend the afternoon wandering the Fisherman's Wharf, it's bustling with people like usual. Blocks stacked with record shops and souvenir shops, boutiques and specialty stores. They wander the streets, Shinichi with their now full duffle slung over his shoulder while Shiho eats fries out of the fast food bag they has just purchased.

At one point while watching for sea lions, Shinichi's distracted by an older woman who appears to be calling out to someone. She sounds distressed.

Knowing he's probably itching to do something Shiho lets him go investigate.

It feels much quieter without Shinichi prompting her to fill the space. She watches the surface of the ocean churn, then the small sleek head of a sea lion pop up before it beaches itself on a nearby rock. Shiho watches a few people pull out cameras or their phones. A few children exclaim to their parents.

Being alone has always appealed to Shiho. It never really bothered her. Had this been just a few weeks before, the thought of being alone would have been terrifying. She doesn't feel as vulnerable as she would have back in Japan. It's right then Shiho chooses to believe Agasa's reports around Beika. Maybe the organization is destroyed and maybe no one is actually after her. She would have felt it. Those heavy stares that go right through her. Stop her in her tracks.

Sure Shiho wishes she were more of an idealist, it's simply more realistic to never completely dismiss the threat.

Shiho spends about twenty minutes there against the wooden railing, thick enough to balance the bag of food and their two water bottles up top it. Leaning against her feet is their duffle. She kind of wishes she had a cellphone. Perhaps to take a picture more than play some casual game.

To take a picture of the ocean. Of the countless tourists. Of the wind blowing through Shinichi's hair.

The sun is still bathing the coastline in a thin heat, halved by the cool air that rushes in from off coast. Shiho counts the sea lions, counts their bobbing heads beneath the sea water. Counts the different tints of blue and green that mix together like soap and bathwater. Utterly and completely and inseparable.

Shinichi's half of the food has gone cold, a half-eaten burger and the dregs of his fries soggy with ketchup.

She's contemplating asking directions to a decent hotel when Shinichi reappears. He's cradling an adult grey cat in his arms, the older woman from earlier at his side. Shiho picks up their bags, leaves the pier to meet them halfway.

Shinichi's grinning, there's a twig sticking out of his hair and some dirt on his nose when he says, "I think I've found us a place to stay."

...

"I rent this apartment to my children when they come around," the woman says, "but it's been quite a few years, they're busy you see, and this place could use some life,"

She looks to only recently be entering her 60s, there are still strands of black in her thin otherwise grey hair, braided and folded into a bun at her crown. The expression in her dark brown eyes is kind.

Shiho wasn't aware of the few blocks that covered an area titled Japan town. Simply seeing it from the outskirts was enough to give Shiho feelings of home. She doesn't think she'll do an actual visit anytime soon however. The woman, coincidentally Japanese as well, had caught Shinichi's attention. She was looking for her cat, Mochi, who had unfortunately been frightened away by a tourist's rowdy dog. Shinichi ever the observer deliberately slipped in a mention of Japan to see if she'd take the bait. Her English is quite smooth, save for a few pronunciations of her vowels, from which Shinichi was able to deduce.

"Thank you very much Toka san," Shinichi says, eyes scanning the mostly bare room. It's an open floor plan with the bedroom in the back of one carpeted corner, a small bathroom in the opposite corner separated by frosted glass and waterproof curtains. On the opposite wall near the front are a kitchen and eating area. It's cozy and self-contained. "This is too much," he smiles, turning back to her and bowing low.

"Nonsense," Toka waves her free hand, Mochi is cradled up against her in her other hand, eyes shut and tail swishing back and forth. "I still expect some rent," her tone is playful but Shiho knows better than think their stay will be free.

"Of course," Shinichi replies, "it's the least we could do for your immense hospitality."

"You two wait up, I have some left overs from the shop downstairs you can have," Toka leaves a moment later, Mochi following along at her heels.

Shiho watches the door close before she takes a seat at the table, its aged, a lightweight wood big enough to fit four with matching chairs.

"Aren't you charming?" Shiho says as she organizes the fruits in a glass bowl on the table by increasing size.

Shinichi shrugs, "After I figured out she was from Japan, she was about to ask me the same thing. I guess that's where it started. She told me that she'd been with that cat for twenty-five years now-come to think of it, she told me a lot in the span of what ten minutes?"

"Older people over share I hear," Shiho estimates the weight of an apple in one hand and a smaller more dense orange in the other.

"Nothing wrong with that, some people need someone to talk to,"

Toka comes back a minute later, holding a grid basket, probably from her shop, a few paper bags of various sizes inside. Shiho can see the grease stains that soak through and her stomach rumbles. She hadn't eaten since early afternoon.

Inside the bags, Toka pulls out sesame buchi, meat filled taiyaki and empanadas, a few pandasal sweet bread rolls and two cartons of mango flavored tea.

"Thank you for the food," Shiho says to Toka in English then again in Japanese in reference to the food itself.

"That will get old quickly, I'll let you two settle in. You'll find some extra futons in the closet should you go looking. Don't be alarmed if you hear anything right outside the door early in the morning, Mochi likes to explore up here in her spare time."

And with that they're alone again.

"Does she know?" Shiho asks after a sip of tea.

Shinichi looks confused for a moment before he understands, "Oh, uh I think she suspects."

"Ah," Shiho tears into a buchi to find yellow mung bean paste, she was hoping for sweet red bean. Alas she still bites into a half.

"What did you think she wouldn't rent to us had we been, I mean we are-"

"Some people are like that," Shiho says casually, "'leave behavior like that to the married couples' that sort of thing," she explains.

"Oh," Shinichi takes the seat across from her. He contemplates it further while he slowly chews on an empanada whose edges are a little over cooked. The inside, however is nicely tender and flavorful. It only takes him a full thirty seconds before he goes bright red.

Shiho leaves him with that before getting up to explore the room a little better, specifically the bathroom.

The room itself doesn't really lend itself to anyone's privacy. Well good thing they've bared everything to each other already. Behind the frosted glass of the door, the small room is made up of a creme tub and sink basin, the facets and the claw feet are a rusted gold. Above the light fixtures are faceted balls of glass in which the bulbs are screwed inside.

With the long plane ride and the subsequent street exploration, the hills did take a toll on her after a while, sleep sounds like a more preferable plan to bathing.

Shiho wanders back out with the intent to find her sleep clothes in the duffle to find Shinichi has already packed up the leftovers of the leftovers and placed them into the fridge. He'd already taken out the ziploc bag of flashcards and spread them across the table in their place.

The nightshirt is simply a larger t shirt she purchased two sizes too big on purpose, it's plain light blue and the collar of the shirt hangs a bit off her shoulder if she neglects to watch it.

Shiho sets to brushing the tangles out of her hair and making the bed. She's halfway through folding the comforter back when she notices Shinichi's pulling the futon from the closet. She stares long enough he finally notices once he stands up.

The questioning look is enough to prompt him.

"What?"

"...We can share," Shiho pats the bed beside her. She stiffens, "unless you don't want-"

"We can, I should've asked you first before-" he chuckles nervously before folding the futon once more.

Shinichi scratches at his nape before he sits down on the side Shiho's left empty.

How could that morning in New York have been so natural, and now it seems like a struggle? Perhaps the forbidden aspect of it was enough to temporarily vanquish the potential hiccups.

"Are you okay?" Shiho asks, smoothing the blanket over her legs.

"Yeah, really I am." Shinichi crosses his legs and faces her. "I guess I'm just not used to this," he breathes out a halfhearted laugh.

"We have time," Shiho blinks slowly, she revels in the opportunity to finally say something like that. Things used to be so tense, a pressure cooker that would more likely burst than stop with a pleasant sounding ding.

"We do," he agrees, placing a hand on her knee. His palm is warm on her skin.

They meet in the middle, a chaste little kiss that becomes deeper each time his hand moves farther up, when curls around her thigh, his fingers dipping in against the inside more tender skin.

"We should sleep," Shiho says when they pull away, her hand digs into the fabric of his shirt. She's doesn't want him to move away and it appears she'll have to be blatant about it.

"Alright."

...

It takes them both about three weeks to get completely adjusted to their new location. Shinichi continues to think over whether or not to look into the local police force for possible consulting jobs while Shiho's managed to land a place at Toka's shop. Her store mostly deals with Asian goods that won't be found often in normal American stores. Things like miso paste and dried fish.

Toka's apartment building is made up of five floors with two tenants per floor. They share the second floor with a man a few years older than they are and his male partner who holds a particular affinity for plants. When Shinichi does see him, he's usually in the company of an industrial dolly covered with potted succulents and cacti.

When he's not thinking about how to approach the police to inquire about consulting jobs, he's trying not to spiral out of his mind. Shinichi had walked in, the floors shiny and polished, although the mood in the room was considerably a bit moody. He took one look at a passing employee's holstered gun and felt his stomach drop. He immediately left and proceeded to spit up a little bile into the nearest trashcan.

The following two days, Shinichi moped around the apartment. He could tell Shiho know something was going on. Why couldn't she just bring it up like she usually does? Perhaps maybe even she sensed that it was the type of sensitive subject that Shinichi would be better off bringing up himself. It felt stifling in there so he left again. Just like Shiho used to back at that apartment.

He loiters around for about an hour. Sometimes her complete understanding of him is frustrating. Irrationally frustrating. He wants her to run after him like those movies that he never really cared for. He wants his pain to be romanticized simply so he doesn't have to think about them in any other context.

Shinichi visits a corner store, definitely not Toka's, and stares at the refrigerated beverages to calm himself. He buys an overly sweet tea and some condoms since he's there. Not because he plans to take anything out her, he'd never. But because he cares about what she has to say and protection is a must for her and he also fully understands the potential for error using other less reliable methods.

He comes back to find Shiho sitting at the table, his English flashcards spread out on the table in front of her. Like she isn't practically fluent. Shinichi drops the bag onto the counter without a second thought and heads towards the bed, scrubbing at his face with his hands harder than usual, mussing his hair on the way.

Shinichi breathes deep as he settles into the comforter, the sweat building on his collar cools and chills the heat he feels in his cheeks, beneath his skin.

"Shiho," Shinichi says quietly, "I want to discuss it. This is as ready as I'll ever be I think. If I don't, it will eat and eat at me," Shinichi rubs his temples harder than necessary. "The murders I committed I mean."

Shiho's heart begins to beat harder in her chest, speeding and speeding.

"I can listen," She stands and joins him on the bed. Sitting cross legged at his side where he lies on his back.

Shinichi takes a deep breath, "I did it to protect you. I did to protect me. I did it to protect us. We would have died if I hadn't chosen to react." He gives the impression that this circle of thought has been run in his mind to the dirt.

"They were bad people who would have done the same thing," he shakes his head, "I'm not the same as them...am I?" He opens his eyes, turns his stare, slightly empty to Shiho.

Shiho's brows draw together, her expression loving, "No," she pauses, "they do damage because they think it's fun. It's all a game to them." She draws her legs in and speaks into the space between her knees.

"I killed someone," he sounds intentionally detached like he's just tired of feeling like vomiting each time it passes his mind. His voice would have cracked had it been any earlier. He covers his mouth. A secret he'll have, one he'll store in his corroding chest cavity until he dies. "And no matter what I do. Or what I want, I can't change the outcome."

"That's true," Shiho says quietly. "And it's because you can't change the outcome, you can start to move on from it. Sure you'll never forget it. I'll never forget the smell of that laboratory as it burned to the ground." There were people trapped inside. "They were bad people," was she a bad person for aligning herself with them at one point?

"You're not bad." Shinichi murmurs, his fingers folded together right below his chest and it looks like Shiho's peering into an open casket, she blinks away his hollow expression and black of suit he'd probably be wearing. At least then he'd be free of the torture. "But me? I did the exact thing I prosecuted other people for. What makes me qualified to do that anymore? I'm nothing but a hypocrite-"

"No. Shinichi that's the last thing you are. You of all people should understand when self-defense is necessary." Shiho places a hand on top his. Feels the warmth of life, it surprises her that she expected him to be cold. She squeezes his hand. "I would have died if you hadn't." It's hard for Shiho to be truly heartbroken over a thought like that. Not when she's had those hopeless thoughts for as long as she could remember. Ever since Akemi died and she was left with nothing but the organization that held her leash. "However long it takes, I want you to understand that you did what you had to do. Both of us did." Her eyes glaze over their hands and up to his face. Shiho stares into his glassy blue eyes and knows that he'll get up from this.

"Yeah?"

"Yes." Shiho leans over and kisses his temple. "I know this is hard and the feeling probably won't go away completely, but it will lessen. I'll help you." She watches a little light spark in his eyes. "You're my partner are you not?" Her smile is teasing. Her partner in love? Crime maybe?

Shinichi thinks for a few moments, he can smell the faint shampoo from her hair, his mother's detergent in her clothes. He closes his eyes, shifts his hand so it can cover hers. With breaths so heavy his chest rattles, he lets her words spread through him, forces her words to assure him in every way.

"I'd hate to be replaced." Shinichi's smile is small. He brings up her hand and kisses her open palm. "I think it's important that I just don't forget how significant of an event doing something like that is." he murmurs against her hand.

Shiho nods, "It's something that changes you." she says with soft eyes. "regardless for better or worse, you won't be alone." Shinichi is one of her most important connections at this point in her life. It wouldn't matter what he did and does, losing this close companion could break her. She's sure Shinichi probably feels the same.

"That's comforting. It really is." Shinichi's sincerity is muted but genuine.

...

Month 2

Shiho rings up the last customer of her shift, an older woman who purchases a cantaloupe, a bunch of plantains and a head of bok choy, before pulling the apron over her head and passing it off to one of the other employees in the back.

The store is a small market, carrying essentials for recipes centralized in Asian countries. Even though it feels good to speak Japanese sometimes, Shiho defaults to English when the customer speaks a language she cannot immediately understand.

Working in Toka's shop keeps her busy when she would otherwise be sitting idly back at the apartment. When she has some free time, Shiho helps with upkeep of the apartment building. With both jobs she's able to effectively contribute to her portion of their already cheaper rent. Toka found no reason for them to sign a lease when they wouldn't be around that long.

Shiho collects her bag from one of the bins in the back room. The environment is lax and causal more often than not. The employees drift in and out between shifts and breaks.

"Oh Shiho!" Toka waves from her office. She holds up her hefty looking tupperware. "I made a little too much you see!"

Seeing no other option really and also considering she hadn't eaten since early that morning Shiho didn't mind joining her for a late lunch.

"So how are you doing sweetheart?" Toka says as she portions out the food evenly across two paper plates.

"Things are going well," Shiho puts on an obligatory smile. For the first time in about two weeks she's had more dreams than nightmares, but she also has more sense than to tell anyone about them. With things settling down, Shiho's been given more time to think about more frivolous things, things she was supposed to be worried about in her twenties.

"That expression tells me more than those words did." Toka gives Shiho a knowing look that makes Shiho's face heat up like she's been caught in a lie.

"It's really nothing you should worry about." Even though Shiho would actually value some outside opinion. The small box she's been living in consists solely of Shinichi and painkillers, both stuffed into its too small confines.

"Are you sure?

Shiho opens her mouth, and then closes it. It can't be too much trouble to mention something. Even hypothetically, presenting an issue that she'll probably see through anyway can't be that bad can it?

"Can I ask you something?" Shiho asks a level under her normal volume.

"I'm an open book." Toka even focuses more on her food, if only to release some of the pressure she may be putting on Shiho.

"So, uh." Shiho scratches her nose. "I'm seeing someone but this someone was previously in love with someone else and things on that end are still in the process of ending-I guess what I'm getting at is the fact that I feel guilt in the face of these circumstances. I don't-I don't want-" Shiho's cheeks go red and she clamps her mouth shut.

"Doesn't that sound familiar," Toka pats her lips with a napkin. "Let me tell you something about my life. My best friend, Wakato, married someone else. I've known him all my life and at one point we were so sure we'd always be together. But do you know the one mistake we both made was never doing anything about it. He left on a college trip one day and came back with the picture of his future wife. She's still the sweetest thing, one of my closest friends now."

Shiho sitting straight up in her seat. They'll be fine like that too won't they? They're adults that should be able to handle themselves.

"I'm still here." Toka says proudly. "If you want a secret Shiho," She leans forward, "Are men really worth all this? No, of course not. What we're chasing is a companion. Someone that understands and supports us. No one wants to be completely alone."

Shiho tries not to be completely enthralled by the idea that men are completely useless.

"I guess that's what it comes down too doesn't it?" Shiho says instead. "I don't want to regret pursuing something or someone that I believe and part of it is letting things fall where they may in the end."

Regardless of how things turn out, Shiho still finds Shinichi a value companion. At the very least, their candidacy shouldn't be affected.

"The lack of total control is what gets us. Things don't always happen as we think they will. Especially when we're young." Toka smiles and the wrinkles around her eyes convey such a raw knowing joy.

"Well it's miserable." Shiho rests her chin on her elbow.

Toka chuckles, "It sure is. But once it's all settled there's no reason to be miserable. Because if you're lucky the outcome is actually considerate of you."

"I hope things work out for all of us." Shiho replies even though deep down, she knows one of them will end up hurt even if only for a little while.

It's forty-five minutes later, Shinichi's still out and Shiho's willing to admit that she has insecurities. Toka has a way with words that Shiho would associate with a mother figure.

Sometimes Shiho likes to think about an alternate universe where she didn't exist or she died early enough she made no impact on Shinichi's or Ran's lives.

It's a life where Shinichi's miraculously able to take down the organization on his own only to return to a life where Ran is still waiting for him and he's ready to continue their relationship with some sickly renewed passion.

Shiho fills the tub with warm water and a floral noted soap before she ends up spending the next forty minutes soaking in it. She stares at the ceiling until the water goes cold.

Shinichi arrives at the forty minute mark of Shiho's soak, the water's long gone lukewarm maybe even room temperature and all the bubbles have dissolved away leaving the water a milky translucent white.

"Shiho? Are you here?" He calls out, toeing off his shoes before dropping his bag by the door and unzipping his jacket.

"Bath," Is all she says, only loud enough he catches it.

Shinichi rolls up his sleeves and takes a seat on the small footstool by the tub. He rests his cheek on one arm and skims the water with the other.

"The water is cold," He says looking up into her face, expression painfully naive.

Shiho sits up and leans closer to him, brushes her nose against his cheek. He smells like the ocean and bitter coffee. Shinichi turns his head to meet her in a kiss, warm and open and affectionate.

"What did you say you were again? A police informant?"

"An "unofficial" police informant." Shinichi corrects, eyes bright. "There wasn't really a consulting position open plus I don't actually have the credentials to qualify for it either. This way, I bypass that, if only for a little while and I still get compensation." He grins like he's hacked the system to his advantage.

"You actually have savings stupid," Shiho presses a finger to the middle of his forehead, "I'm working from the ground up over here." Sure Agasa has happily shared access to his savings should they need it and otherwise, Shiho doesn't want to burden him or rely on him either.

"And you're doing an admirable job," Shinichi adds seriously, only for Shiho to slap him playfully on the shoulder. The water spots the white of his button down.

"Cleaning bathrooms aren't fun and retail isn't much better," She says. Shiho isn't too upset about it, she could use the normalcy after enduring much worse.

"Alright," Shinichi gives in, he stands and grabs a towel from the wall side cabinet, light blue and freshly laundered, and holds it up for her, "you'll get a cold if you stay there too long. I figure you've soaked long enough." Shinichi gestures eagerly with the towel. Shiho chuckles at the little dance, a matador with the wrong equipment before pulling the drain then standing.

She allows him to wrap her in his arms and subsequently the towel, with a blush on his face nonetheless. Shinichi turns her in his arms so they're nose to nose. The red splattered across his cheeks intensifies before he leans down to kiss her. Shiho kisses back in fervor, hand coming up rest on his shoulder and his jaw.

It's then Shiho fully understands the weight of Shinichi's confession on that roof top. She wants to keep sharing her life like this. Just like this.

It's like he's pulling her back beneath the cloudy tub water, but the water is scalding, bends her body until it's fully pliant, in the depths, beneath his.

He smells orchids, faint on her damp skin, must be the soap. Shinichi lies her down on the bed, on top of worn blue roses on sheets that smell like laundry detergent. She kisses him back eagerly, slips her tongue into his mouth to deepen the kiss, her own jaw going slack so he can reciprocate. Her hands grasp at his hair while he pulls the towel away.

Shinichi runs his hands through the water droplets on her thighs, spreading them as he presses kisses against her throat.

He's not operating solely on adrenaline this time, exhausted from running, from surviving. Shinichi has all the time in the world to fully bask in the sounds she makes, no longer a contrast to the screams of terror that are only faint echoes he can barely recall now. He wants to take them both away from the horror of their past and into a future that seems so much closer and so much better.

He presses a kiss to her hipbone before giving her a questioning look. Shiho nods with red cheeks and a bitten lip.

Shiho's mouth falls open, her hips shift instinctively, his face nestled up against her. With supple glistening skin that smells of bath soaps and her own distinct scent, she becomes completely and utterly bare to him in every way. She's both sweet and bitter and bland against his tongue.

Shinichi laps at the peak of her clit, eliciting barely there hums and gasps. Shiho's fingers slip in against his scalp the same way his tongue slips between the folds, back and forth. Long enough her body begins to bow, tightening like a rising pulley, tighter and tighter as he in turn takes the slack and returns it.

His dark ruffle of hair clamped between her sun fair thighs is the height of erotica, the flash of dark blue eyes when he looks at her snaps the tension in two.

Her lungs fill and stagger empty with air like she's just been choked, breathy and thick. He rides her through it with his tongue, back and forth; fingers pressed against her entrance, his thumb rubbing her clit.

Only when Shiho begins to push his face away out of sensitivity does he pull away, lips and chin shiny and wet.

Shiho watches him wipe his mouth with the towel then unbutton his shirt and toss it to the side. Shinichi pulls at this belt buckle, his lips back on hers.

"You good?" he smiles against her mouth, it's hard to hide the smugness in his tone.

"Yes," Shiho stretches to reach the nightstand. She drops the contents of her hand into his.

A condom.

Shinichi's eyebrows rise. "Are you sure?"

"That is what I want." Shiho watches with dark eyes as Shinichi unbuttons his pants and pushes down his briefs to free his cock. He grunts, giving it a few strokes, tugging on the head briefly.

Shiho rubs her thumb against his hip bone, comforting and gentle as he rolls on the condom. She settles back as Shinichi's hand comes forward to grasp her hip.

He sinks in slowly, his eyes staring into her face for any reaction. Shiho's once against beneath the tub water, but he's breathing air into her starved lungs.

Her skin is stifled heat, boiling beneath, building in her belly. She'll be quick to catch fire with the next wild gust. It's no longer simply water droplets but a thin sheen of sweat that turns slick beneath the hard grip of his hands.

"Ah, ah," Shiho inhales sharply, chest heaving. Her gasps harden to groans that punctuate each thrust.

His eyelids flutter, his mouth parted as he gets lost in her. Her limbs the vines and hedges in the maze of their bodies.

"Shi-ho," Shinichi thrusts his hips forwards in a manner that is still obviously inexperienced. Still slightly jerky, but unlike last time, their first time, he sinks deeper, he isn't afraid to leave only the head inside her before thrusting back in.

Shiho feels pleasantly full, almost overwhelmingly so. The spark in her gut smoldering stronger, ready to burst into flame.

The second orgasm hits her like whiplash, her nails digging into his back, against the shifting of his shoulder blades. Shinichi inhales in broken pieces, presses in his body against hers as he comes.

It feels like the air has thickened around them, as has their resolve towards each other.

Shinichi places closed mouth kisses on her mouth and down her chest before he pulls out.

Shiho's eyes slide closed, she must have drifted off because she doesn't catch the moment he ties off the condom and throws it away because he's already lying back down next to her. Nuzzling his face right beneath her jaw.

"I think I like doing this with you," he admits, his hand curling around her waist.

"Pervert," Shiho murmurs, turning her head to breathe him in. To feel the warmth that emanates from his skin like steam, sweat on his skin like condensation. She grasps onto his arm.

...

Month 3

"I honestly thought I'd be married by now," Shinichi chuckles, in his eyes flashes distance and then it's gone. It comes from a place where expectations were presented to him and he never questioned it.

"If this is some offhand attempt at a proposal, then I'll have to decline for now." Shiho smiles in the low light. His responding laugh shakes her from her position on his chest.

"Damn, I'm gonna have to rethink my strategy." His lids fall, suddenly sleepy.

"But that's a long way away..." Shiho stares into his face, his expression is peaceful. "Shinichi?" She rubs away the exhaustion from her eyes with her fingers.

Shinichi's lids flutter open, revealing clear blue eyes.

"How long has it been since you had a nightmare?" She doesn't want to bring down the mood after all the room is still steeped in a rosy heat, the so called post coital glow.

Shinichi purses his lips, "Last week, I think," he yawns, "why, did something happen? What about you?"

Shiho rubs his bare skin beneath her resting hand, "Just the other night,"

"Tell me about it," he's come so far in communicating his thoughts with her, it feels more like concern than invasion.

"Just the usual," She rests her chin on her hands, "Smoke, fire, my sister..." Shiho drifts off, even avoids his eyes.

Shinichi lifts a hand and brushes away a piece of damp hair from her face. She looks at him then.

"That's not nothing." Shinichi says gently, "and that's okay." He still feels guilt over Akemi's death. Maybe he could have prevented it. He wishes he had. Shiho would be all the more better, all the more whole if her sister was there to help support her. Give her advice the way a sister would.

Shiho agrees with a quiet hum, she presses the side of her face against his chest. Her ear there above his heart, she can probably feel its steady thud.

"Shiho?"

She peeks an eye open, clearly expectant.

"Can I tell you something?" It's Shinichi's turn to avoid her eyes. That's enough to make her lift her head to look at him better.

"Well, it was sometime last week. One of the officers that I'm usually in touch with. Nice guy, you should meet him-but that's beside the point. He suggested that he take me to the gun range he visits on his days off. I agreed because I thought I was ready to handle it." Shinichi laughs in spite of it. "The moment I heard a gunshot, even muffled through the ear protection, I blacked out for a second, then I panicked. You should have seen him trying to apologize, I should have said something beforehand."

"It's fine challenge to yourself. Triggers are more common that you think. Many people have them. Some of us are just better at hiding it." Shiho replies. She reaches up with one of her hands and places it on his cheek. Shinichi leans into it. "and that's okay too,"

The amount of power the black organization has flexed to keep her within their ranks was enough to make her unbelievably sensitive to any of them. They were terrifying in the worst way. Shiho tries not to think about it too much. It's proven useful at the very least.

"That's good to hear," His tone can be interpreted as bitter, but he means it.

Shinichi holds her until she falls back asleep, until he too sleeps. They can have a late morning breakfast when the time comes.

"I should probably give mom an update," Shinichi says an hour and a half later over cereal. His hair is sticking up every which way, one of the legs on his sweatpants is bunched up at the knee. The long sleeve he wears is wrinkled. He may or may not have just picked it up off the floor.

"Agasa too, I said I would," Shiho spreads the strawberry preserves liberally across her butter toast. She looks marginally more put together with an ironed out t shirt and denim shorts. However, despite that her hair still looks like she only combed through it with her fingers. Which, coincidentally is exactly what she did.

Shiho can't believe she hadn't purchased any postcards yet. At least she'd sent the ones from New York before they left.

"Do you think we should move on soon?" Shinichi says abruptly.

Shiho's not really surprised, they'd been there for about two and a half months by now.

"Maybe," Shiho chews slowly. "We can by the end of the month."

They leave simply because they don't see themselves permanently settling down in any of these places any time soon. Because Shinichi wants to avoid attracting anyone he doesn't want to immediately see to take him back home. He doesn't speak about it much, but Shiho knows it's Ran he may be running from. Perhaps he's much more prepared to deal with it now that he's had time to properly process. Shiho wants him to wait until he's ready to do it right, but she also won't indulge him for too long if it seems like he's avoiding it like some bad grade he wants to keep hidden.

"I think that would be for the best," Shinichi says before drinking the leftover milk from the bowl.

...

He's tall and a bit wispy looking despite being a cop. Shiho wants to know how Shinichi spends so much time around authorities without letting anything slip so easily.

"Raphael, this is Shiho, uh she's my girlfriend." Shinichi's voice is a tad jumpy but Shiho elects to ignore it. "Shiho, this is Raphael, my unofficial partner at the station."

Shinichi's come a long way with his understanding of English, now able to have full conversations without speaking a word of Japanese.

Shiho takes note of Raphael's heavy lids and the glassy brown eyes beneath them, thick cuts of cheek bones and full lips; his skin is a warm brown in the ten o' clock morning light. Raphael extends a hand that Shiho gives a neat shake.

"Nice to meet you," his voice is lower than she expected, but pleasant regardless.

"It's a pleasure," Shiho replies, smiling.

Shiho has a feeling this is almost like a goodbye for Shinichi, but even she knows that he probably already has Raphael's contact information.

Brunch is cheery, Shinichi's relaxed as they chat over scrambled eggs and hot coffee with a side of fruit.

Raphael mentions how he'd always wanted to visit Japan at some point in his life. Shinichi's happy to give him a tour should he go. Shiho contributes little quips here and there, but she's not really the casual conversation type so she elects to eat mostly in silence on her side of the table.

Of course, like every conversation with what appears to be a stranger, Raphael asks how they met.

"Well, it definitely wasn't the best first meeting," Shinichi laughs it off while Shiho smiles into her plate. She missed watching him squirm in awkward social settings.

"She was in one of my classes during school a few years ago. She was the one that first talked to me. I just wanted to go home." Shinichi chuckles then proceeds to busy himself with a long gulp of his coffee.

Shiho's only slightly impressed with his ability to make the situation relatable while keeping it true.

Raphael in turn says he met his wife through mutual friends. With an adoration so pure Shiho has to look away, he explains how his wife has helped him through so many rough spots in his life he doesn't know if he could ever repay her.

At that point, Shiho's ghosting in and out of the conversation in such quick succession she's shut her eyes to steady herself.

Shiho's still present, but she's no longer aware of the line of conversation until Shinichi's hugging him before he leaves. It's one of those hefty friend hugs where there's the thump of their hands hitting each other's backs.

"Are you okay?" Shinichi's now up close, he's smiling.

Shiho squeezes her eyes shut tighter for a second before opening them, there's blotches of blue that pattern and pop over Shinichi's face, remnants from the abyss beneath her lids.

"Yeah," Shiho says, "just zoned out a little is all."

Shinichi chooses to believe her, "First impressions?" He says offhandedly taking back his seat and biting the tip off a strawberry.

"He seems reliable, nice." Shiho replies, leaning her head on her chin. "So he's the one that brought you to the gun range?"

"Yeah, but he's been really helpful. He even suggested a few therapy places for me if I want. His wife works in public health and she's got a pretty good list of good resources,"

"Do you want to?" Shiho pauses, "stay longer I mean."

Shinichi places a hand on her shoulder, he shakes his head, "No, even though I like it here, I don't think we should stay any longer."

"Are you avoiding something?" Shiho asks outright.

Shinichi flinches, "Not so much as it feels premature to just settle down and live here. More like it doesn't feel quite right to just stay here and leave things unfinished-"

"So you want to go back to Japan?"

"Not yet," Shinichi answers truthfully. "Indulge me this time."

Shiho will miss Toka, as a kind landlady, employer and almost mother figure. Even though Shinichi told Raphael to drop by whenever, when he would, he would only appear to find their apartment empty.

That night, Shiho slips the last rent payment beneath the door of Toka's suite. She should be working late at the shop and as a result it shouldn't be that hard to just leave with their belongings. It's easier this way, saying goodbye would just be sadder.

...

Month 1

The Mekong River is wide and deep, the other side is shrouded in deep jungle and scarcely traversed paths.

Shinichi's dragged Shiho down the riverside, a shuttle's ride away from their hotel villa. An open field, deemed too flooded for a steady harvest, neighbor to rice paddies where many young kids often play well into the afternoon.

The sky is cloudy, steadily thickening to the point of rainfall before nightfall.

Shiho watches Shinichi balance then bounce the soccer ball against his instep, his calf with effortless grace and focus. She's never seen him grin so widely, for a moment he's back in a child's body discovering his love for something for the first time.

Shiho takes her time to relearn him. Sure he's got a few more cracks and tears than before but he's still just as valuable, just as worth it.

Shinichi performs for the surrounding children with an impossibly wide grin on his face all the while. Shiho can tell he's rusty from the way the ball hits the crown of his head and flies at an angle he did not foresee, his arm jutting out to catch it on instinct. Many of the children laugh when he nearly slips in the damp grass.

Once the children have scattered, many of them attempting to imitate what Shinichi had shown them. Shiho runs down the embankment and across the dewy grass in Ran's old trainers and feels so free for once. There aren't nightmares edging across her vision behind her eyelids when she blinks. Instead Shinichi's there replacing the fire that strikes like lightening with a different fire, one that nurtures life.

Affection curls in her belly, which appears to happen more often these days. Shiho places a hand on his elbow to direct his attention to her before she kisses his cheek.

Shinichi's crooked smile is broken up by the splash of pink across his cheeks. Neither of them has noticed it has started raining. He continues playing, this time enamored with both her and the ball beneath his foot.

The rain is steady is now, Shinichi's shirt is soaked in spots. He knees the ball upwards once more, ready to counter with his other foot, his weight shifting when he slips in the grass. This time he's unable to catch himself and the fall is rather ungraceful as a result.

Shiho figures it's time to take the next available shuttle back to town before either of them get sick. Most of the kids have already gone home, with the exception of two of the older ones still chatting on the embankment.

Shinichi holds her hand between them on the way back, beneath his other arm is the ball he'd purchased at one of the market stalls that he bought for forty thousand Lao kips, about 500 yen.

The villa is tiled floors and thin white drapes. There's a wooden built veranda that gives a wide view of the Nam Khan River outside.

Shiho settles into her seat, begins to pick with her chopsticks at the glass noodle salad, yum woosen, chocked full of veggies, shrimp and chilies.

Shinichi, in turn has already wolfed down half the steamed fish and rice.

"Shiho," Shinichi takes a sip of tea, "I think it's time to go back soon."

Shiho's surprised, but also proud that he's getting better at processing his feelings.

"You can't run from something forever." Shiho says, god does she know that.

"I know and that's why I want to go back and face this."

"At least you've recognized that on your own."

"You wouldn't leave me in the dark for much longer would you?"

Shiho smiles, "Maybe if it meant this trip was without its strings." If it meant that neither of them would be hurting anyone by just disappearing off the map. If it looked like Shinichi was done with the life he was living for good, so everyone could move on. But with Ran still dangling by Shinichi's feeble threads, Shiho finds it hard to relax, sure the edges of her vision are no longer singed with a deep running paranoia, but that doesn't mean Ran's aren't. She's still left with that heartbreaking conversation so many months ago and hearing nothing after that has to do something to a person. Especially a person so close to him.

"I'm getting that feeling too." Shinichi looks down at his lap. "I feels irresponsible to just leave her in the dark this long."

Shiho nods, "I don't want to hurt her." she repeats even though at this point she knows it's unavoidable and that saying so only makes it hurt more when it actually happens.

"I don't either." Shinichi's hands dig into his knees. "Does the end of next month sound okay to you?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Month 2

They're out on the veranda, staring into the slow rivulets of water as it passes in a deep green blur and reflects in the early morning sun, when Shinichi calls Ran. With Japan only being two hours ahead, there's no need to wake up at some absurd time to catch her.

The rings on the other end are faint but Shiho can hear them. Only the sounds of the river and the slight wind to bother them.

" _Hello?_ "

"Ran, is that you-"

" _Shinichi._ " She pauses, " _I'm glad you're okay. You sound much better._ "

"Yeah, a lot of things have happened-listen, I don't want to just spring this on you, but I'll be home soon...you of all people should know." Shinichi's bent over the wooden railing, resting on his elbows.

" _That's great_ ," her voice is gentle, affirming.

That's why they would have been compatible. That's why they would have worked so well. Ran holds in her hands, a sort of effortless graciousness about her. They don't fight unless they have to. Unless there's no other choice.

Even now, Shiho doesn't feel any sort of stabbing jealousy, Shinichi's her partner now, in every sense of the word.

"Yeah," he drifts off, wipes a clammy hand on his jeans. "uh, how have you been doing?"

Shiho's unable to really hear any specifics, but she doesn't mind. What Ran has to say to him-only he should hear it.

"I knew you'd kick ass at it." Shinichi's smiling. It's genuine and at the same time there's guilt in the stretch of his lip.

" _What have you been up to Shinichi-I mean if it's confidential or anything-_ "

"No, no, no," Shinichi waves his hand, "Things, for the time being, have been settled and I have a lot to tell you when I get back. I want you know before I do that that I missed you and that I'm sorry for being away for so long. What has it been four, five years?"

" _It's alright, we'll get there._ "

...

It may be a year later *insert but I'm here *

Thoughts on length? Thoughts on having a conanxai prequel fic documenting the case?

There is still one more part my friends *cries* idk why it turned over twice as long as the other one.

idk they were originally planned to go to london too, the whole ran x shiho parallel. But sure i'll give them that at least.

regardless i'd be very happy to hear from you all about this one. feedback is much appreciated.

see you this time next year, not really i'll try and write faster/ post it earlier


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